The Importance of First Impressions
by Vee22
Summary: It all starts with a hangover... oh, but perhaps not in the way that you think. Ellie is an Arts student at the University of Sydney and Will Darcy is her tutor. Modern P&P.
1. The Hangover

On those mornings when you wake up with a hangover, there are only three thoughts which your brain is conscious enough to process - '_Where the hell am I?', 'What did I do last night?' and 'I am __**never**__ going to drink again.'_

A quick glance around the room reassured me that I was alone and in my own bed. _Phew. We were off to a good start. _

I sat up cautiously, wincing as I did so, and reached for the glass of water that I always kept on my bedside table. Taking a hearty swig, I did my best to piece together what had happened last night...

"_Come on, Ellie! Come out with us. It's the last night before uni starts – we've got to do something fun!" my sister Lisa had urged. "I just heard about this new club that just opened in the city. Raoul knows the bouncer and he's promised to get us all on the guest list for tonight." _

_Lisa had turned eighteen and my parents were thrilled that they could no longer be held responsible for her choices. There were four of us girls in the family but from the start, Lisa had always been the wild one. Having spent the last three years sneaking into clubs with a fake ID and drinking illegally, you would have thought that Lisa would have been over the nightclub scene by her eighteenth. On the contrary, she was delighted to be able to do these things with the Government's permission – even though not having it had never stopped her before._

_Being 20 and 23 now, my older sister Jenna and I no longer thought of clubbing as a novelty. Jenna was in her fifth year of a medical degree and preferred spending quiet nights in her apartment, curled up with her textbooks and her cat. _

_I was in my last year of an Arts degree and while I enjoyed the occasional night out on the town, I had to grown appreciate the peace of nights in too. I'd recently decided to move out of home and into on-campus housing with my best friend Charlotte. We didn't have much space and it was furnished with secondhand goods from charity shops, but it was our first real step towards independence and we were both immensely proud._

_I hesitated. "I don't know, Lisa. Seeing that there won't be a lot of sleep in my life once uni starts, I was kind of hoping to have an early night."_

_My sister snorted dismissively. "You're getting old, aren't you?"_

_I refused to take the bait. "We're all getting older, aren't we? You'll understand where I'm at in a few years."_

_Lisa was not known as the most manipulative member of our family for nothing. She swiftly changed her tactics. "So I saw Peter in a bar the other day," she said casually, as she checked her reflection in my bedroom mirror. "He had his arm around this cute little blonde. It's good to see that he's going out and having fun, unlike someone else whose name I shan't mention."_

_I tried not to react but couldn't help gritting my teeth at her words. Peter was my ex-boyfriend. We'd dated for four years and in everyone's mind (well, at least in my mother's and his), we were the perfect couple. It was assumed that we'd get married one day and I have to admit, I was probably thinking we would be. One day, that is. _

_But I sure as hell wasn't expecting a proposal on my 20th birthday. We'd gone out to a Thai restaurant that we both loved and then for drinks at a nearby pub. The evening passed quickly and it wasn't long before we were outside my front door – this was while I was still living at home, obviously._

"_Thanks for a great evening," I said, tiptoeing so that I could give him a kiss._

"_You're welcome," he said with a smile. "Good night."_

_And with that as our farewell (or so I thought), I opened the door and was about to walk inside, when Peter called my name. Turning around, I was stunned to find him kneeling on the front step with a small square box in his hand. _

"_I forgot to give you your real birthday present," he said, his eyes sparkling. _

_I cautiously opened the box and found a heavy diamond solitaire inside. I stared at Peter in astonishment. Did he really think that this was the kind of jewellery that I'd go for? And then suddenly it hit me. It was an engagement ring._

_I was in my second year of uni and by no means did I feel ready to accept his proposal. Not at that stage, anyway. So I gently tried to explain that I wasn't ready to get married right then but maybe in a few years...maybe after we'd both graduated. I wasn't prepared for Peter's reaction. _

_He immediately lost his temper and began ranting at me, complaining that I'd led him on. It wasn't until recently that I'd discovered it had actually been my mother who had been leading him on. Apparently she'd been dropping hints that he should propose for the past couple of years. She'd made him believe that I was ready to get married and would drop out of uni if he gave me that opportunity._

_Mother never had been excited by my degree. She had never been able to understand (and still didn't) why I was doing it. In her mind, an Arts degree offered no prospects. There was no opportunity to meet a rich man I could settle down with – the average Arts student spent their dosh on textbooks and beer. It wouldn't lead to a renowned or respected career like Jenna's or Mary's. _

_Our middle sister Mary was an accomplished musician and studying at the respected Conservatorium of Music. She was something of a prodigy, having mastered the likes of Mozart and Tchaikovsky before she'd reached her sixth birthday. Mother saw Mary's gift as compensation for her plain looks and introverted personality. She might not have the beauty to attract a wealthy husband – but with a promising future as a concert pianist, she would never have to worry about being poor._

_Therefore, in a sick, twisted kind of way, I could understand why Mother had tried to marry me off, although I wasn't even a legal adult in some countries. I knew that her intentions had been good. But this hadn't stopped me from turning Peter down. And to my surprise, he'd instantly broken up with me._

_I'd walked inside the house, only to be instantly accosted by Mother and my sisters who'd been unashamedly eavesdropping on the entire conversation._

_Mother had vowed that she could never show her face in Vaucluse, where Peter's family lived, again. She then urged me to call Peter and beg for his forgiveness and threatened to disown me if I didn't._

_Fortunately, my father, who had been calmly sitting on the couch and reading the paper through Mother's outburst, decided to speak up._

"_Ellie," he said gently. "It seems as though we have a problem here. Your mother will never speak to you again if you don't marry Peter. And I, on the other hand, will never speak to you again if you do."_

_I'd always been my father's pet. I was the only of his four daughters who loved history as much as he did. Dad had been a professor at Cambridge when he'd been younger. He then went to Sydney on a holiday with some friends and promptly fell in love with a girl whom he'd met at Bondi Beach – my mother. There was a difference of 20 years between them, which would seem a little creepy to some. But despite all odds, they'd made it work and he'd ended up moving to Sydney. _

_Dad had never once said so during the time that we'd dated, but I knew he hadn't liked Peter. _

_I hadn't seen Peter since the night we'd broken up and was somewhat miffed to hear that he had apparently already moved on. It had only been a few months after all._

_Lisa could tell she'd won and she smiled triumphantly. She rifled through my wardrobe and tossed a little black dress at me. "I'll give you 10 minutes to get dressed and then we're out of here!"_

I groaned as I thought about just how much we'd been drinking last night. I'd started to lose count after the fifth or sixth tequila shot. Jenna was a lightweight drinker and had given up after two. I was starting to wish I'd followed her example.

My head was throbbing painfully and my stomach felt like it was burning. I slowly got out of bed and shuffled to the communal bathroom. Thankfully, no-one else was there. I didn't stop to think why. I just threw up.

An agonising 20 minutes later, I was back in my room and was struggling to pull the blinds shut when Charlotte walked in. She looked annoying awake and perky, which surprised me, since Charlotte was usually not a morning person.

"Hey, Ellie!" she said cheerfully, reaching over and helping me snap the shade shut. "What are you still doing here? Don't you have a tute right now?"

I stared at her blankly for a moment. She must have understood my pained expression because she gently turned me around so that I was facing the clock on my wall.

All of a sudden, it made sense to me – Charlotte looked perky and awake because it was already 12:15pm! And she was right – I had a history tutorial on the other side of campus...which had started 15 minutes ago.

If it had been a lecture, I would have opted to skip it, even if it was the first one of a new semester. But a tute was a different story – attendance was mandatory and rolls were marked. You couldn't pass a subject without attending at least 80% of the tutes. There was no way that I could afford to miss this. Oh, shit.

Charlotte grasped the situation quickly and kindly made me a cup of strong black coffee while I frantically grabbed some random clothes and made a dash for the bathroom. I took the fastest shower of my life and groaned as I looked at the outfit I'd assembled – orange T-shirt, black mini, purple undies, white bra. I looked as though I'd picked out my outfit in the dark. But it was too late to get changed.

I gulped down the coffee quickly, even though it was far too hot, grabbed a notebook and pen and ran for my life.

It was a quarter to one by the time I'd reached the classroom where the tute was to be held. I'd mistakenly gone to the wrong building and had to double back when I'd realised my error. I knocked cautiously on the door and opened it to find eight of my fellow classmates staring at me. I suppose I was probably was quite a sight. But I was too distracted to think about that.

Because standing in the middle of the room was the hottest guy I'd ever seen. And from the frown on his face and the pen in his shirt pocket, I realised that this was my new tutor. Oh, crap. What a way to make a first impression.

_Author's Note: I've been a long-time fan of Pride and Prejudice but this is the first time I've ever tried to write a story for this fandom. As you're probably aware by now, this is a modern day fic and it's set in Sydney, Australia. This story is not a strict retelling of P&P – e.g. Peter is Mr Collins and he's not related to Ellie. He may appear later in the story, though. I've also gotten rid of Kitty – I didn't feel that her character would add much to this story._

_Reviews and constructive criticism would be most welcome – I'd love to hear what you're thinking of this!_


	2. The Introduction

He was tall and slender with fashionably-cut dark hair and the most incredible green eyes. Dressed in a crisp oxford shirt and perfectly-starched chinos, he was dressed rather formally for a tutor, but somehow managed to pull it off. Good looks, a sense of style and he taught history too? I wanted to _marry_ this guy and have his babies and I didn't even know his name.

If this was a movie, there would be romantic music playing and sparks flying as the beautiful young protagonist and handsome hero made eye contact. After gazing into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity, the beautiful young protagonist would then charm the handsome hero with a dazzling smile and some witty banter.

Unfortunately this was real life and I was no romantic heroine. Instead, I swallowed and tried to speak, but to my horror, no words would come out. It felt as though a giant hunk of peanut butter was stuck to the roof of my mouth – everything was dry.

As I stared at Mr Unnamed Hottie, he was also looking me up and down, but his eyes were taking in my last-minute outfit with what looked like an expression of derision.

_Please say something. Anything –just break this awkward silence._

He must have heard my silent plea.

"Miss Bennett, I presume," he said in a distinctly British accent. "How kind of you to finally grace us with your presence."

He looked pointedly at his watch. "Even though this tutorial is about to conclude for the day."

"I'm sorry," I finally managed to stammer. "I accidentally overslept and then I got lost on the way here..."

He interrupted me. "I'm not interested in hearing your excuses, Miss Bennett. If you can't find your way across campus, perhaps you should be taking a geography class instead of history."

I could feel my traitorous cheeks starting to burn with humiliation. Several of the other students tittered, although a few shot me glances of sympathy. I was fast re-evaluating my original opinion of Mr Unnamed Hottie. He might have been good-looking but that didn't give him the right to embarrass me.

Had he been cracking a joke, I would still have been embarrassed but I would have been OK with it. I'm usually the first person to poke fun at myself - when you're a born klutz, you quickly learn to laugh with others before they laugh at you. But there was no humour in his eyes and his sardonic tone made it clear that he was not joking.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, wishing the earth would open right then and swallow me up. "It won't happen again."

"It had better not," he said curtly. "But as you've missed most of the tutorial, Miss Bennett, I expect you to write a paper for me on today's subject. Perhaps that will remind you to come early and prepared next time."

"You can't do that!" I spluttered in disbelief. Sure, I'd had some strict professors before but this guy really took the cake! And he wasn't even the actual lecturer. Since when did tutors have the authority to assign extra papers that weren't in the curriculum?

"I'm afraid I can and I have," he answered coolly. "1,500 words and you'll need to hand it in at the next tutorial."

He glanced at his watch again. "That's all we have time for today," he said, addressing the rest of the group. "I shall see you all again at this time next week. If you have any questions in the meantime, please email me."

With those as his parting words, he gathered his books, packed them neatly into an expensive-looking Italian leather briefcase and strode out of the room.

I glared at him as he left. If my head hadn't been aching so badly, I would definitely have given him a piece of my mind. But right now, I had more important things to worry about...like rushing back to my room and doing research for my unexpected paper before meeting my sister Jenna in an hour and a half.

Two hours later, I was in Jenna's apartment, lazily stroking her tabby cat Cornelius and in a much better frame of mind. I'd managed to finish the additional texts for today's tutorial as well as the recommended reading and I was confident that I'd be able to write a decent amount of waffle in the next two days. Plus I was feeling a_ lot_ better – my hangover must have been wearing off, as the delicious smells wafting out of Jenna's kitchen were actually making me hungry.

Have I mentioned that Jenna is a fabulous cook? If it's not enough that she's stunning, studying to be a doctor and just plain_ nice_, she's also a whiz in the kitchen. If I didn't love her so much, I'd hate her guts. Seriously.

With all she has to offer, you'd think guys would be lining outside Jenna's door, queuing for a date. But that's actually not the case – quite the opposite, in fact. It's my younger sister Lisa whom they queue up for and Lisa takes full advantage of this.

Jenna's always been rather shy and retiring but it's often and easily interpreted by others as a sense of superiority. She hardly goes on dates and has never even had a steady boyfriend, much to the chagrin of my social-climber mother, who's still living in hope that her beautiful eldest daughter will find true love with a royal...or at the very least, a millionaire's son.

"Here you go, Ellie," Jenna says with a smile, as she sets a heaped plate in front of me. I'm glad that I'm over feeling queasy because there is no way I'd be able to eat this otherwise.

I find myself digging into the spinach ravioli eagerly, surprised at how strong my hunger pangs seem to be. I manage to wolf down two helpings, some Caesar salad and even snag a few pieces of bruschetta before I realise that Jenna's barely touched her own food. Instead she's moving her salad around her plate with her fork.

I think of stories I've heard about anorexics who do this to distract from the fact that they're not eating and I frown. I can't stand the thought of Jenna succumbing to something like this.

When I'm not struggling with a hangover or speechless in front of a gorgeous guy, I'm actually an extremely vocal person. Blunt, even. There was no way that I was going to let Jenna leave the table without confronting her. In the nicest possible way, of course.

As Jenna stands up to clear our plates – mine empty and hers still quite full – I can't hold my questions in any longer. "Why aren't you eating?" I blurt. "_Please_ don't tell me you're on a diet."

I don't say this part out loud but I'm certainly thinking it - if my tall, skinny, model-like sister is on a diet, the rest of us have no hope.

Jenna blushes. "I'm not on a diet," she insists and since she's a truthful person (which is sometimes a virtue and sometimes a curse), I believe her. But from the way she's acting, I can tell that she's hiding _something _and I wonder if her secret might even be worse than anorexia.

We share a carton of Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey for dessert and I help her wash the dishes. I feel like I've crossed a line and invaded her privacy somehow and stick to small talk for the duration of our time together. I tell her about my hangover and what went down at my tutorial. She laughs at my descriptions of Mr Hottie, especially when I mimic his British accent and remarks - _"How kind of us to grace us with your presence, Miss Bennett."_

When it's time for me to leave, I thank her for the late lunch and give her a hug before heading out. I manage to walk out of her apartment building, but only a few seconds later, I find myself running back and pounding desperately on her door.

Jenna is alarmed when she opens the door and rightly so. I do look like a bit of a madwoman, although at least I've changed out of the horrible outfit I was wearing earlier.

I come straight to the point. I'm not a believer in beating around the bush.

"Jenna, I know you're hiding something," I say frankly. "And I'm not going to judge you on whatever it is – if you've decided to become a nun, if you're joining the circus, if you've made plans to have your body frozen...I don't care. I just want to _know _what's wrong and if there's any way that I can help."

The game is up and Jenna blushes again. With her fair complexion, there's no hiding the telltale flush that turns her cheeks a rosy pink.

"Alright," she says with a sigh. "I wasn't sure if I should say anything yet. I was going to wait a while before I told the family – you know how Mother gets."

Jenna then proceeds to tell me all about Charlie Bingsley.

Apparently Charlie is an exchange student from the UK, who came to Sydney Uni to complete his engineering degree. He and Jenna ran into each other on the first day of 'O-Week', struck up a conversation and basically hit it off. They had only known each other for a little over a week now, but had been seeing each other almost every day.

"He's so kind and sweet, Ellie," Jenna says earnestly, her face softening into a smile. "I really think that he might be...you know, the one."

I have to turn away, so that I can hide a smile of my own. Jenna has long cherished the idea that every person has a soulmate – someone who is destined for them by inevitable fate, someone who is their other half. This idea had gotten her through many years of being single and now it seemed as though she felt that Charlie Bingsley was the soulmate that fate had ordained for her.

I hadn't completely ruled out the possibility of a soulmate, but I hadn't seen any evidence to consider the idea as plausible, either. Peter was the closest thing I'd ever had to a soulmate and knowing the kind of person he was now, that scared me.

_Shut up, Ellie and stop thinking about your past. This is all about Jenna, _my conscience scolds me.

Something about the name Bingley sounds familiar and I strain to remember why. Suddenly it dawns upon me.

"Jenna, what does Charlie's father do? Do you know?"

Jenna shrugs. "I'm not sure, he hasn't talked about him much. Something in media, I think?"

I _knew _the name was familiar.

"Oh, my gosh! I don't believe it! Charlie's father is Everett Bingley of Bingley Corporation!"

"Say what now?" Jenna asks in confusion. For such a brainy person, she's surprisingly ignorant of the world around her. She rarely watches the news or reads the paper. I, on the other hand, am a news junkie.

I sigh in frustration. "Jenna, you _must _have heard of Bingley Corporation. They're one of the largest media conglomerates in the _world."_

Jenna still looks confused. Without asking, I immediately march to her room, open her laptop and do a quick Google search. Within seconds, I'm directed to Bingley Corp's Wiki page, which provides a detailed summary of the company's dealings and links to their official website. I triumphantly hand the laptop to Jenna.

Jenna scans the Wiki bio briefly and then takes a virtual tour of the Bingley Corp website. Her face pales as she finally realises just how much Everett Bingley – and therefore his only son Charlie – is worth.

"Oh, shit," she whispers softly, as she tears her eyes away from the screen. "Ellie, he's _loaded. _He can't be my soulmate after all. There's no way a guy like him can stay interested in someone like me."

I give her a comforting hug, wanting to disagree with her, but secretly thinking that she has a very valid point. Charlie Bingley can certainly afford to date anyone he wants to. As lovely as Jenna is, how could she possibly compete with all the other girls out there in Sydney...let alone the world? No, there was no way that their relationship could last.

And it was a shame. Mum would've been so pleased.

_Author's Note: Hi everyone! A special thank you to those who read and reviewed the first chapter. I'm so glad to hear that you're enjoying the story. I'm having a lot of fun writing it. =)_

_To those who have favourited this story, put it on alert or have just discovered it, thank you also for reading. But I would really appreciate it if you would just take a moment to leave a review. _

_For me, the great thing about posting on FanFiction, as opposed to keeping my stories to myself, is being able to hear feedback from the readers and other writers. I think that's what all of us who are writing for this site are looking for._

_Did you enjoy the story? Were there parts you especially liked? Were there parts that you didn't like? Can you offer constructive criticism on how it might be improved? What would you like to see happen? Even a few words of encouragement would be greatly appreciated._

_I hope to hear from more of you this time around! Until the next chapter. =)_


	3. The Phone Call

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman must be on the look-out for a husband in possession of a fortune. Or so my mother would have my sisters and I believe.

From a young age, she drilled it into all of us that the only way to be successful was to land a successful man. When reading us bedtime stories, she'd point out that Cinderella was nothing but more than a servant until she married the prince. Sleeping Beauty was doomed to spend eternity in slumber until her Prince Charming woke her up with a kiss. And as for Snow White...well, let's not even go there.

So you can imagine how she reacted when she heard that _her _Jenna was dating Charlie Bingley, as in son of Everett Bingley of Bingley Corp. But in case you can't, I'll spell out the gruesome details for you. It all started with a phone call...

"Elizabeth Marie Bennett! Tell me it's true. Please tell me it's true!"

I winced at the shrillness of my mother's excited voice and took her off speakerphone. Charlotte was already in bed and she didn't need her dreams interrupted.

"Tell you what's true, Mother?" I asked wearily, shoving my laptop away. I had been slaving on my paper for most of the evening, determined to make a better second impression on Mr Unnamed Hottie. I'd finally come up with a first draft which sounded pretty decent but I couldn't help worrying that it wouldn't be up to his standards.

"Oh, don't be coy with me, Elizabeth Marie. You _know_ what I'm talking about."

I winced again at the use of my full name. My mother was the only person who ever used it and it drove me nuts. Come to think of it, that probably had something to do with the fact that my mother was the only person who ever used it.

On the other hand, Dad had called me Ellie from an early age and somehow the nickname had stuck with everyone else.

"Yes, two plus two does equal four, Mother. Now is that all you had to ask? Because I've got a paper due tomorrow and I'd really like to finish writing it."

"Don't be impertinent," my mother huffed and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes at the phone. Something about talking to her always seemed to make me feel like a rebellious teenager once again.

"I'm talking about Jenna and _Charles Bingley." _

That snapped me to attention. I froze, clearly remembering that Jenna hadn't been ready to tell anyone else about her budding relationship yet. Especially when she'd only just decided to break up with him that afternoon!

"How did you find out?" I asked slowly, knowing it was no use fibbing and pretending that it wasn't true. Mother was a bloodhound when it came to gossip – she had a nose for sniffing it out.

"You'd know if you ever read something besides your precious books in a while, dear. It was on the front page of the R&F this morning."

Sometimes I just can't believe the irony. Most parents urge their children to read something besides gossip magazines. My mother is completely the opposite.

R&F is a cheap throwaway tabloid that mysteriously appears in various locations around the city of Sydney every afternoon. It stands for 'Rich and Famous' and details the lives of people who fit in the above category, most of whom I think would also be great candidates for a spin-off tabloid called NT or HB – as in 'Need Therapy' and 'Hopelessly Boring.' It usually contains articles (if the word is even appropriate) about wealthy people who (a) donate lots of money to a charitable cause, (b) are caught up in a scandal or (c) checking into rehab. Not my kind of reading material at all. It doesn't even make it onto my guilty pleasures list.

But I'm alarmed at the thought of my sweet innocent sister Jenna being in a rag like this and I pull my laptop back towards me and hastily Google the R&F website.

And there she is. She's kissing a blond guy whom I assume is Charlie Bingley, clearly unaware that some slimy paparazzi is capturing their own private moment. Emblazoned across the picture is an eye-catching headline in hot pink font – 'Charlie Bingley's Latest Hook-up – How Long Will This Fling Last?'

"Isn't he handsome?" my mother gushes happily, completely unaware of my growing horror. "And as Everett Bingley's son, he's rich too. I _knew _my Jenna could not be so beautiful for nothing!"

I stare at the phone in surprise, thinking that it's obviously some sort of cosmic accident that my mother gave birth to me. Because there's no other explanation for how we share the same genes. _None._

"Your daughter is on the front page of a stupid tabloid, being branded as a wealthy playboy's latest fling and you think that it's _a good thing?"_

I can't hide the anger in my voice but frustratingly, and perhaps not surprisingly, Mother doesn't even seem to notice. She continues to prattle happily in my ear.

"He has such a beautiful estate in the Hunter Valley – Netherfield, I believe it's called. And he has a trust fund that automatically provides him with a hundred thousand dollars a year! Jenna will never lack for anything if she marries him."

"Being labelled as the girl Charlie Bingley hooks up with is not the same is being the girl Charlie Bingley wants to marry," I point out, although it's redundant. My comments are falling on deaf ears.

"Oh, Desiree Lucas will be so jealous! She made her daughter Charlotte join the yacht club to get close to Everett Bingley's son. I wasn't too nervous about that. Charlotte is a sweet girl...but she is so very _plain._"

Huh. Well, that did explain Charlotte's sudden interest in sailing a few months back. As far as I remember, she'd only been twice. She'd gotten seasick on the first trip and fell overboard on the second.

I glanced at the clock and realised it was getting quite late. I had to check my paper for any typos or glaring historical accuracies and I still needed a decent amount of sleep. There was no way I would get away with being late to my tute again. But there was also no way I could politely say goodbye to my mother. We talk on the phone once a week and I never get to hang up until she has something more entertaining to do or some sort of distraction. Hm...

"Jenna wants to break up with Charlie Bingley!" I blurt out, silently praying that my sister will forgive me for unleashing Mother on her.

As I'd expected, my mother instantly hangs up. I have no doubt that poor Jenna is due for an earful now.

When I'm finally convinced that my paper is perfect, I print it out and leave it on my desk, ready for tomorrow's submission. I choose an outfit that's both presentable and stylish and make sure it's hanging on my door, ironed and pressed. I pack my bag for the next day, double-checking to ensure that all my textbooks and notebooks are inside. I even check if my spare pen is working.

As I get ready for bed, I can't help but smile in satisfaction. Because I _know _that tomorrow will go smoothly. It just has to.

_Author's Note: Thanks for those who have been reviewing! It's great to hear what you think of the story. I'm sorry that Ellie has been coming across as a bit of a loser – but hey, she's only human. Hopefully she'll grow and mature in this story._

_See you at the next chapter. Review, please!_


	4. The Paper

On an average day, I usually have to press the snooze button at least twice before I heed my alarm and reluctantly get out of bed. Today was no average day.

Fearful that I'd oversleep and incur the wrath of Mr Unnamed Hottie once more (what _was _his name, anyway?), I woke up a good three hours earlier than I had originally intended to. Truth was, I'd had trouble sleeping.

I was feeling incredibly anxious – again, something that wasn't typical for me, not in regards to uni work, anyway. I'm normally a huge procrastinator and no matter how hard I try to start things on time, I tend to put my assignments off until the last possible minute. Half an hour before the deadline for submission, you can usually find me at Fisher Library, frantically swiping my student card and hoping that my haste will help the printer move a little faster. But for some reason, I felt differently about this paper.

The memory of a pair of intense green eyes flickers in my mind and I shake my head resolutely.

Two hours and several coffee cart cappuccinos later, I'm sitting in the classroom where our tute is held and feeling just a tiny bit smug. I'm arrived so early that I've beaten everyone else – _including _the tutor.

He comes in fifteen minutes early and is again impeccably dressed, clad in a sky-blue shirt and a pair of pants that look like they just came off the racks of Ralph Lauren. I'm surprised to see him also carrying a coffee mug which features pictures of Tintin and Snowy – he _so _doesn't look like the Tintin type.

He raises an eyebrow when he sees me.

"It's good to see you here on time, Miss Bennet," he says pointedly. "Dare I hope to presume that this means there will be no more repeats of last week's tardiness?"

Gosh, I love his accent. I've always had a thing for guys with British accents.

"No, that will definitely not be happening again," I assure him hastily. As proof of my staunch commitment to this class, I triumphantly hand him the paper that I've been slaving on. All 1,579 words of it...and that was _after _I edited it for length. I'm pretty proud of the finished product and as he scans my work with a furrowed brow, I'm secretly waiting for a word of praise. It's a bit of a shock when he hands the paper back to me almost immediately.

"How long have you been in this university, Miss Bennett?" he asks almost cordially. My stomach sinks. This was not the accolade that I'd been anticipating.

"I'm a third year, sir," I say politely. I'd never felt so formal with a tutor before. I'm accustomed to being able to call my tutors and lecturers by their first names but obviously couldn't right now, as I _still _didn't know the guy's first name. Or last name for that matter.

In my head, I'm snarkily thinking, "It's a third-year history class, you fool. Why on earth would you need to ask me that?"

He runs a hand through his dark hair and I try not to look like I'm mesmerised by how thick and soft it appears.

"And how many assignments would you say you've submitted in that time?"

Now this is a tricky question. It's obviously not rhetorical because he's looking me expectantly and waiting for an answer. Does he _really _expect me to count them all? Apparently so.

"Uh, I'm not sure...maybe 30 or so?"

He smirks and gestures towards my paper. "Do you think that your assignment is missing anything, Miss Bennett?"

I'm feeling indignant now. How _dare _he criticise my work when he hasn't even read it properly? He's only had time to give it a brief skim.

"I think I covered all the points we discussed in last week's tutorial and then some," I say coolly, hiding my clenched fist under the table and wishing that I had my stress ball with me.

"I'm not talking about your written work," he says impatiently. He taps the front of my paper. "You've neglected to include a cover sheet and I can't mark this until you rectify the situation."

_Oh, crap! _

For those not in the know, cover sheets are _mandatory _for every paper done at uni. They include all the boring details like your name, student number and essay topic but you also need to sign it to declare that your work hasn't been plagiarised. Cover sheets are only kept in the Faculty of Arts department, which is in the Main Quad in the middle of campus. Unfortunately our tute room is in Engineering on the _other _side of campus (yeah, don't ask me what a history tutorial is doing in Engineering, I don't know either). And it'll take me at least five minutes and probably more to run over there now. No, there has to be a better solution to this.

I turn to my stone-faced tutor and flash him my most winning smile. "In that case, could I submit this at the faculty office instead? I'll go there straight after class." I glance at my watch. "It looks like we're about to start soon and I don't want to miss another tute."

He doesn't appear moved by the ordeal at hand...or indeed by my smile.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Miss Bennett. I did ask you to have this paper ready by this tutorial. I'm prepared to excuse you to go get a cover sheet now and then come back for the rest of the tutorial."

I stare at him in blatant disbelief, not believing what I'm hearing. "You've got to be kidding! It's already finished – you can see that for yourself. What difference will an hour more make?"

"I assure you, Miss Bennett, I kid you not. And in answer to your question, a 2% deduction from your final mark as a late penalty," he says calmly. I glare at him as I get out of my seat and run out of the classroom, trying not to bump into fellow classmates who are just entering and staring at me curiously. I swear I can hear them thinking "Oh, great! It's that weird girl again. Can't she do anything right?"

_What a prick. How could I ever have thought he was attractive?_

**Author's Note – We'll meet Bingley in the next chapter! And we'll find out what Darcy thinks of Ellie's paper...and of Ellie. But only if you're actually interested in reading more of this story.**

**Well, don't keep me in suspense...are you? Please review.**


	5. The Discovery

_**Thanks to CourtneyCS, lynniern, Wendi Triplet Mom, tcdavis, Weave the Magic, loveandsqualor, Harriate Slate, goldenROSE309, dontstealmyvitaminies, CuriousGeorgie, toffeema and Julie Brook for reviewing that last chapter. This is for you!**_

"More. I need more!" I demand, as my spoon scrapes the bottom of the bowl with a resounding clang.

Charlotte looks at me in concern. "I hate to sound preachy, Ellie, but don't you think you've had enough?"

"Not today, Charlotte. It's been a shitty day. Now are you going to give me a refill or do I need to go somewhere else that will?"

I stare at her defiantly until she gives in.

Charlotte sighs and reluctantly dishes out another bowl of Haagen-Dazs ice-cream.

"Here you go," she mutters. "But if you wake up tomorrow morning and find out that you can't fit into your jeans, don't blame the ice-cream scooper."

I ignore her snarky comment and dig in. Halfway through the bowl, I start flagging – not because I'm full but because all the sugar is starting to go to my head. I need something savoury.

I get up and scan the dismal contents of our fridge. Two apples, a limp head of lettuce, a carton of milk , a strawberry yoghurt and a jar of Vegemite.

The pantry's offerings are also scanty – a lone pack of instant noodles, a bottle of soy sauce, a king-sized Crunchie bar and an unopened packet of Tim Tams.

"Char, we _really _need to go grocery shopping."

Right then, there's a knock on the door, which turns out to be Jenna bearing a huge vegetable lasagne.

"My saviour," I say gratefully, reaching out to take it from her.

Jenna glances at the table and the nearly-empty carton of Haagen-Dazs. She raises an eyebrow and looks at her watch.

"Digging into the quality ice-cream and it's still afternoon!" she exclaims. "Alright, who's having the bad day?"

"Your sister," Charlotte retorts, looking at me pointedly.

I didn't understand why she seemed to be so pissed. OK, granted, so I hadn't been the easiest person to live with in the last few days AND I had eaten two-thirds of our precious Haagen-Dazs, but still...

Then I observe how her lip curls slightly as she speaks to Jenna and I suddenly realise what this is about. Charlotte must have seen the latest issue of R&F. And having hoped to land Charlie Bingley herself, she's obviously jealous.

Her next words confirm it. "So, Jenna, I hear you've hooked up with Charlie Bingley. What was it like? Was he any good? Or is his prowess all just hype?"

My eyes widen. I'd never known Charlotte to sound quite so petty and vindictive. She sounded almost like...her mother.

_Oh, God, was the bitch gene hereditary?_

Jenna looks slightly dazed at Charlotte's barrage of questions and then she blinks as she suddenly seemed to register what they're about.

She looks at me with an accusing "I can't believe you told her" glare and I shrug my shoulders helplessly. Now is probably not the right time to inform her that she and her 'soul mate' are plastered over the front page of a glossy tabloid.

"What are you talking about, Charlotte?" she asks coolly.

I have to hand it to her. She's acting like she hasn't got a clue what Charlotte is talking about. Only an experienced younger sister's eye can see how her cheeks have reddened slightly and that her hand is shaking almost imperceptibly.

Charlotte strides purposefully to the couch and takes something out of her handbag. I gulp as I realise what she's holding. It isn't difficult to recognise that hot pink font.

So, remember just a few seconds ago, when I said that now was not the right time to inform Jenna that she was on the front page of R&F? It looked like Charlotte was ready to let the cat out of the bag.

Nuh-uh. Not if I could help it.

Charlotte can obviously tell that the suspense is killing Jenna and she's deliberately moving a lot slower than usual. I use the extra time to sneak off to Charlotte's room, plug in her straightener and sneak back.

Sure enough, Charlotte is _still _biding her time and hasn't actually shown Jenna what she has in her hand yet. I'm grateful for this. Not because I want Jenna to be ignorant of what's happened. Oh, no, she definitely needs to know. But at least I can break the news a little more tactfully.

Within a few minutes, a distinctly smoky smell begins wafting out of Charlotte's room. Jenna screws up her nose in puzzlement and Charlotte frowns. She heads to her room to find out what's causing the smell and in a few seconds, I hear her shriek as she makes the discovery.

"That's our cue. We're going to your place," I say hastily, pushing Jenna out the door before she can protest. As an afterthought, I quickly double back and grab the lasagne. There's no sense in letting the food go to waste, after all.

Roughly fifteen minutes later, we're at Jenna's apartment and gulping down glasses of ice-cold water. Jenna finishes first and puts her glass down, before fixing me with a stern look.

"Would you mind telling me what the _hell _that was all about?"

I have to say that Jenna took the news a lot better than I thought she would. I was expecting her to barricade herself inside her bedroom and I imagined myself leaving food outside the door every couple of days.

Instead, she's sipping a cup of green tea and looking surprisingly zen. All those yoga classes she's been taking are clearly having _some _kind of effect.

We avoid the subject for the next few hours and spend it watching the first season of _Glee _and pigging out on lasagne. But when the clock strikes six, Jenna suddenly looks panicky again.

"I'm supposed to be having dinner with Charlie and his friend at seven," she whispers. "Ellie, I don't know if I can go through with it. What if he's seen the tabloid? What do you think he'll say?"

I put my arm around comfortingly and give her shoulder a squeeze.

"I'm sure Charlie's used to all this attention from the media. I doubt that one stupid article is going to faze him. And if it does, he's obviously not the kind of guy you want to be with. You are a _catch _and don't you forget it."

Jenna looks at me gratefully and I breathe a silent prayer of thanks, knowing that I've somehow managed to say exactly the right thing.

By a quarter to seven, she's ready and looking fabulous in a sky-blue silk dress and a pair of silver stilettos. But once more, her face is pale and she's pacing up and down restlessly. I have to give her kudos for being able to pace in those shoes.

"Jenna, what's wrong?" I finally ask, worried that those skinny heels are going to create holes in the already-threadbare carpet.

"I thought I could do this but I can't," she says softly. "The guy I'm supposed to meet tonight is Charlie's oldest friend and I know that Charlie wants him to approve of me. Being photographed in a sleazy tabloid is hardly the right way to go about it. Maybe I should just cancel tonight. Maybe I should just be a hermit until this all blows over."

"No, you shouldn't be!" I cry hotly. "You have nothing to be ashamed of and you have no need to act like you do. So you've been seeing a guy for a while and decide to kiss him. Big freaking deal. If it had been anybody else on campus, no-one would give a shit! Jenna, I will _go _with you on this date if it's the only way to keep you from cancelling!"

I make the offer somewhat rashly, not expecting Jenna to take me up on it. She surprises me for the second time that day.

"Will you, really?" she asks, her eyes glowing in delight. "Oh, Ellie, that is so sweet of you! You are the best sister ever!"

She reaches out and gives me a huge hug, leaving me wondering what I've gotten myself into. Is it too late to bail?

"Look, Jenna, I'm really not dressed for a fancy restaurant," I say awkwardly. I can tell from her outfit that they're not having dinner at our local Maccas.

Jenna eyes the clock. "We have ten minutes to get you ready, then," she says calmly. With an efficiency that awes me, she rifles through her closet, picks out an outfit, hastily does my make-up and even finds time to brush my hair.

"Wow. You should be on one of those makeover shows or something," I say, slightly dizzy from the whirlwind activity of the last few minutes.

Jenna laughs. "Sure, if I could squeeze it in between exams and the hospital," she jokes and I'm glad to see that she seems to have her spark back.

I almost don't recognise myself when I check out my reflection. Jenna's put my hair in some sort of fancy up-do and pinned it back with silver clips. I'm wearing a wine-coloured silk sheath that is surprisingly flattering and she's forced me into a pair of stilettos with heels to rival hers.

I practise walking in them experimentally, as I'm not accustomed to wearing heels this high. If I can get through the rest of the evening without falling flat on my face, I'll count it as a success.

I'm not overly impressed by Charlie Bingley when I first meet him and I can't understand why.

He certainly makes all the right gestures – he's on time, he looks perfectly presentable, he compliments Jenna on her appearance, he doesn't freak out when he hears that I'm tagging along on their date AND he arrives with an armful of long-stemmed red roses. He's even hired a chauffeur and limousine to take us to our mystery destination.

Perhaps that's what turns me off about him – he just seems a little _too _good to be true. I have issues with trusting those types of guys. If they seem too good to be true, they probably are. That's my motto.

But my fears start to dissipate somewhat during the car ride, as I come to believe that Charlie Bingley really _is _completely nice and sincere, despite his glitzy playboy image. He certainly seems genuine enough. I start to think that Jenna may be right. Perhaps she really _has _found her soulmate.

And then I forget all about analysing Charlie because we've just pulled up at our destination. Awestruck, I gaze at the restaurant I've heard so much about...but never once dreamt that I'd get the chance to dine in.

"Oh, my gosh! It's Tetsuya's!"

"Charlie, you shouldn't have," Jenna chides but I can tell from the delighted expression on her face that she's looking forward to this as much as I am.

Tetsuya's is something of an institution amidst the foodie crowd. It's owned by Japanese chef Tetsuya Wakada and serves a fusion of Australian, Japanese and classic French cuisine. It's consistently lauded by reviewers and until last year, it was consistently awarded three hats (the highest possible rating) by the Sydney Morning Herald Good Food Guide.

The eleven-course degustation dinner is priced at $210 per person with an additional $95 per person for matching wines. I suddenly feel guilty for having invited myself along, but rationalise that Charlie Bingley can certainly afford to pay for my dinner.

It's the kind of place people go to only on _very _special occasions and even as we're escorted into the restaurant, I still can't quite believe we're here.

"I'm Charles Bingley and my party is here to meet William Darcy," Charlie explains to the head waiter. The waiter nods in recognition. "Mr Darcy is already here. Please come this way."

The view of the famed Japanese garden is stunning and I wonder if it would be cheesy to take my phone out and snap a few photos. But we're moving so quickly that I decide against it.

"Ah, there he is! Hey Will! We're here!" Charlie calls eagerly, his face lighting up in pleasure. I turn to look in the direction he's waving at, only to gape in disbelief. Because...

That's right, you've guessed it. Charlie's oldest friend Will Darcy is none other than the infamous Mr Unnamed Hottie.

_**Author's Note: So I know that I said I'd put Darcy's perspective in this chapter but I think I'll save it for the next chapter instead. **_

_**Want to read more? Then make sure you scroll to the bottom of the page and hit that 'review' button. It'll only take you a couple of seconds and it would make this writer so happy. =D**_

_**Tetsuya's is a real restaurant and you can check it out at .com. Personally I've never been there – like Ellie, I'm not used to paying so much money for one dinner. But I'm having great fun writing about it!**_

_**Thoughts, comments, constructive criticisms and general encouragement are welcome.**_


	6. The Dinner

_Here's my shout-out to the reviewers of the last chapter – Harriate Slate, lynniern, CuriousGeorgie, loveandsqualor, purplegirl-af, Avanell, head in the clouds 14, apple and ForeverBlossom. You guys rock for taking the time to review this story and I'm sending you all a virtual homemade double-fudge brownie with walnuts each. =) Or any other virtual baked good of your choice. =)_

I was gratified to see that I wasn't the only shocked one. Will Darcy did an unmistakable double take when he saw me behind Charlie, although he recovered his composure admirably. Fortunately Charlie and Jenna didn't seem to have noticed anything amiss.

"So, Will, this is the girl I've been bragging about lately," Charlie said with a broad smile, putting his arm around Jenna.

"Ah. It's nice to finally meet you," Darcy said cordially. I call him Darcy because it's simply impossible for me to think of him with a name that sounds as easygoing and informal as _Will._

"And this is her lovely sister Elizabeth," Charlie said lightly.

"It's Ellie, actually" I correct, finally looking Darcy straight in the eye.

His eyes were almost hypnotic, drowning me in their gaze, and I found myself swallowing as he stared at me silently for a minute.

"It's a pleasure...Ellie," he says finally and I realise that he's going to act like we're complete strangers who have just been introduced. Well, fine with me. I'm not particularly keen to re-live the humiliation of our first two meetings.

"Likewise, I'm sure," I say, mimicking his formal speech.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Jenna and Charlie sneaking surreptitious glances at each other and I'm suddenly suspicious. OK, maybe I invited myself along...but why can't I shake off the nagging feeling that this feels a little bit like a set-up?

As soon as I think that, I laugh inwardly. Me and _Darcy _as a couple? We'd kill each other before we made it to the end of our first date. No, surely I must be mistaken.

But as Charlie urges me to sit next to Darcy, like we're a _couple on a double date, _I can't help but feel uneasy. It's fortunate that the waiter arrives at that point and pours water for us all. He informs us that our first course will be out shortly. I'm relieved. Food is always a great ice-breaker – you can't be forced to make conversation when you're eating.

In the meantime, we're restricted to small talk and Charlie, it seems, is king of the small talk and making sure that everyone feels comfortable. At his prompting, Jenna is shyly telling Darcy about her medical degree and I might be imagining it but I think I see a look of relief in Darcy's eyes. He's probably pleased to know that the gorgeous honey blonde his friend is dating isn't some random bimbo he picked up in a nightclub.

The first course arrives without me having to join in on the conversation and I breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

"What _is _this?" asks a stupefied Charlie, who for all his wealth and jet-setting, has probably never eaten at a restaurant like Tetsuya's in his life.

"This is warm chestnut soup," the waiter says cordially. "It is only the first of eleven courses, so please don't fill up on this."

_As if one could really fill up on soup!_

But as I taste the velvety richness of the soup and relish the flavour of the chestnuts, I think I could quite easily be convinced to order this soup as a meal on its own.

It's surprisingly filling and then I guiltily remember the two bowls of ice-cream and the vegetable lasagne that I'd devoured earlier that afternoon. Somehow whenever I'd dreamt of going to Tetsuya's, I'd always imagined starving myself for the whole day, so that I could truly enjoy every bit of the culinary experience. But when the second course arrives – kingfish sashimi – I sigh and decide I'll just have to make the room somehow.

Besides, eating will take my mind off the fact that Will Darcy's eyes have been fixed steadily on me for the past fifteen minutes. _Why is he staring at me? And more importantly, how is he managing to eat while he's staring at me?_

~ _**Darcy's POV ~**_

She can obviously tell that he's been watching her, because he sees her sneaking glances at him from time to time. When he catches her gaze and holds it, she drops her eyes like a woman from the Regency era and suddenly seems to find her food fascinating.

He knows he really shouldn't be staring at her like this and that he's probably scaring her. He's surprised that Charlie and Jenna haven't picked up on the awkwardness but when he takes a break from looking at Ellie to peek at them, he sees why. Even though they're eating at the table with him and Ellie, they seem to be in their own little lovebird world.

He almost wants to tell them to get a room but knows it probably wouldn't be appropriate in a restaurant as fancy as this. Scratch that. It wouldn't be appropriate anywhere.

So he goes back to staring at Ellie and barely even notices when the waiter politely asks if he can please collect Mr Darcy's plate.

He knows Tetsuya's is renowned for its unique and innovative cuisine but it's completely wasted on him tonight.

The marinated scampi, the ocean trout confit, and the fillet of barramundi with grilled artichoke...they're all just names which fly over his head and even though he's mechanically putting food in his mouth every now and again, he's really not noticing what it tastes like. It could be processed macaroni and cheese for all he knows and cares.

He _does _lift his head when the waiter announces the sixth course of braised oxtail with sea cucumber, but only because Ellie staunchly refuses to eat it and politely asks if she can skip this particular dish. He expects the waiter to look insulted but he seems charmed by the pretty girl's courtesy and agrees instantly.

_Ellie. Why are his thoughts so consumed with a young girl he barely knows? A girl who's proven herself to be tardy, sloppy and disorganised?_

Because from the moment she ran breathlessly into the classroom on the day of the first tute, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about her.

The cute flush which appeared on her cheeks when he scolded her for being late. The way she protested when he ordered her to write a paper on the tutorial she'd missed. Her promptness at the next tutorial and the look of almost smug satisfaction on her face at beating him there. The way that smug smile immediately disappeared when he pointed out that she'd neglected to include a cover sheet. The flash of anger that sparks in her eyes when he orders her to get a cover sheet right then and there.

And then when he finally has the chance to mark her paper – oh, who's kidding who with the word 'finally'? As soon as the tutorial was over, he ran – yes, _ran – _to the other side of the campus and the privacy of his own office, just so that he could see what she had come up with.

Part of him was expecting a typical uni student's paper. You know, the kind where they take everything directly off a website, use a thesaurus to change a few words and include books in their bibliography that they clearly haven't read. Ellie's paper, in comparison, is a huge shock for him.

For one thing, it's completely typo-free and it's a pleasant surprise for him to read a paper which has obviously been proofread before. For another, despite originally forgetting the cover sheet, she's followed all the other university guidelines to the letter. She's even done the footnotes properly - something that Darcy knows is a challenge for most students, even if they _are _in third year. But it's really her unique writing style, intelligent insights and detailed analysis that have him bowled over.

He might easily have been reading an academic essay by one of his colleagues or one of the lecturers or even a professional in the field. At first he honestly can't believe that it's her essay and suspects she must have plagiarised it somehow. He spends a fruitless three hours typing random parts of her essay into a university search engine used to check for plagiarism.

After his endeavours lead him nowhere, he cautiously begins to ask around about her. It's not long before he discovers that Elizabeth Marie Bennett, a far cry from being the airhead he's privately labelled her as, is one of the brightest students in her year and has already been short-listed for approval to do Honours next year.

And from that point on, she plagues his mind constantly. He's never met anyone who is creative, shy, stubborn, wilful and fiercely intelligent as she – no, not even in his years reading Classics at Oxford. _Especially _not in his years reading Classics at Oxford.

At first he has trouble understanding his attraction to her...or even interpreting it as attraction in the first place. In his eyes, she's only a _student _and a sloppy, disorganised student with no sense of style at that. She's not even _good-looking, _not by the standards of the supermodels he and Charlie were used to dating in England, anyway.

But it's not long after he decides that she's not good-looking (in class, no less!), that he realises that it's patently untrue. He's captivated by the beauty of her bewitching eyes. They're a shade of hazel which shift in colour from light brown to a golden-green. He's struck by the fact that her eyes are rarely ever the same shade. For some reason, he has the strong impression that those eyes reflect their owner – unique, changeable and unpredictable. And it's crazy because he doesn't even _know _their owner.

Nothing seems to rid his mind of the girl with the hazel eyes. He tries every possible distraction – a good book, bad television, even a soccer game with his colleagues. But he just can't shake her out of his head.

So he's relieved when Charlie calls and begs him to come out that night. He knows that Charlie's been raving about this girl for ages and must see her as something serious if he's introducing her to Darcy, who's practically his family. Well, snobby sisters aside, he corrects himself, thinking of Caroline and Louisa.

He almost faints when he sees _her _walking into the restaurant behind Charlie. Surely she's not the girl Charlie's dating! And he can't even vocalise in his mind why the thought distresses him and why he's oddly relieved when Charlie puts his arm around the honey blonde instead.

You see, the _one _thing that Will Darcy has been clinging onto in the past few days is the fact that Elizabeth Bennett is just _not attractive. _Sure, she's got lovely eyes...but considering the hideous outfit she was wearing on the first day of class, she obviously has no sense of style or elegance. Therefore he can't _really _fantasise about her.

But when she walks into Tetsuya's, his jaw drops unwillingly. Because she looks stunning.

Her silky wavy dark hair is pinned elegantly on top of her head...the burgundy dress she's wearing fits her perfectly and hugs every curve of her body...her tanned legs suddenly look a mile long in silver heels.

And now, he can't stop staring at her. He just can't.

_**~ Ellie's POV: ~**_

"I'm going to burst," Jenna laughs, as she sighs and pushes away the remnants of her grass-fed beef with Swiss brown and porcini mushrooms.

"No, sweetie, you can't burst now. Dessert's coming and there are still another three courses," Charlie coaxes.

Jenna shakes her head stubbornly. "Sorry, honey. I'm done."

He turns to me. "How about you, Ellie? Do you still have room for dessert or are you full too?"

I _am _rather full but I can't turn down the prospects of dessert at Tetsuya's.

"I always _make _room for dessert. It's like I have a secret compartment in my stomach which only unlocks itself when dessert comes," I joke.

Charlie grins approvingly. "Atta girl."

Darcy has barely said a word through dinner and Charlie looks at him a little worriedly, obviously wondering if he's left his oldest friend out of the conversation.

"So, Will, tell us. How's everything at work?"

"Fine, thanks," Darcy says in a clipped, abrupt tone, clearly not in the mood to make conversation.

Charlie refuses to take the hint and tries again. "Anything exciting happen today?"

"No, not really."

Charlie seems to feel the need to create a conversation Darcy can participate in. He pauses for a moment and then his face lights up.

"Wait until you hear about this crazy student of Will's," he said with a chuckle. "Apparently turned up late at the very first tutorial, claiming that she'd gotten lost. But she wasn't just late. She arrived precisely when the tutorial was about to end. She _was _a bit of a lost case from the sound of it! Wore a horrendous outfit, was completely disorganised. And Will reckons she was reeking of alcohol too. What a loser, huh?"

I stiffen at Charlie's words and Jenna looks at me in alarm, knowing my propensity to lose my temper when I get really angry. She clearly remembers my pathetic story and knows the identity of the loser student Darcy told Charlie about.

"Ellie," she hisses, and I shrug at her. She needn't worry, I don't plan to embarrass her by making a scene. Not in a place like Tetsuya's, that's for sure.

"Thank you, Charlie, for a very nice evening and a wonderful dinner," I say coolly, as I push my chair back and stand up. "I hate to run off like this but I've got an early class tomorrow and I really need to get going. Jenna, I'll see you soon."

I deliberately don't say goodbye to Darcy, who's studiously eyeing his sorbet, anyway.

_Coward. He can't even look me in the eye._

"Oh, Ellie, just wait and have dessert with us and I'll make sure you get home safely," Charlie says kindly.

"No, thanks, I really can't stay."

"At least let us get you a taxi or something," Jenna pleads.

"I'll be fine. Stop worrying so much. We're in the heart of the city, I'll have no problem finding a bus back to campus," I say dismissively. "Night, all."

From the turn that the evening has taken, I expect to stack it on my stilettos on the way out, but I'm proud to say that I managed to make a dignified exit. I thank the waiter as he opens the door and escorts me out and then stifle a groan as I realise it's pissing buckets outside.

_Oh, great, it's raining. But at least Darcy isn't around to see me turn into a drowned rat. _

I cautiously make my way slowly across the parking lot, trying not to trip in my stilettos.

Meanwhile, back at the restaurant, Darcy lifted his eyes from his sorbet to watch me walk out. A few minutes after I had already walked out the door, he suddenly leapt to his feet, wiped his mouth and bolted after me.

Charlie and Jenna stared after him with puzzled frowns.

"Was it something I said?" Charlie asked innocently.

_**Author's Note: There you go, my dear readers...you finally know what Darcy thinks of Ellie! But does what he think even matter anymore? Can Ellie forgive him for his careless words?**_

_**So I'm noticing that A LOT of people are reading this story, have favourited it and have put it on Story Alert. But I seem to be getting very little feedback from you all!**_

_**Therefore I have a proposition for you. Well, actually, it's more like a bribe. =)**_

_**If and only if I get a decent amount of reviews and feedback for this chapter, Darcy will catch up with Ellie and have a chance to plead his case with her.**_

_**I'm very aware this proposition could backfire. For all I know, you readers are a sadistic lot and don't want Darcy and Ellie to have a conversation. Which would be a shame because then this whole story would kinda fall apart and I really don't want that to happen.**_

_**So, please just click on that Review button and make my day! =)**_


	7. The Bus Ride

_**~ Darcy's POV ~**_

Part of him can't_ believe _he's doing this. He should be seated comfortably at Tetsuya's right now, sharing coffee and petit fours with his best friend and his best friend's date. Instead, he's running pell-mell down a busy city street, raindrops spattering all over his dinner jacket. He's chasing a girl who hates his guts right now. And he can't think of a single fathomable reason for why he's doing this.

All that he knows is the expression of hurt which crossed her face at Charlie's words will haunt his dreams tonight.

_How could she have disappeared so quickly? Could she have hailed a taxi?_

He pauses to reflect – and also to catch his breath – as he ponders where she might have gone. Suddenly he remembers her earlier words...

"_We're in the heart of the city. I'll have no problem finding a bus back to campus."_

A bus! She must be waiting for a bus!

He turns abruptly and begins to sprint to the nearest bus stop with renewed energy, almost knocking over an old woman in the process. He mutters a hurried apology as he runs past, but doesn't stop. She glares at his rapidly retreating figure and complains to her companion about how unmannerly and rude young people are these days.

He groans when he sees a bus pulling away from the curb.

"Wait!" he cries, waving his hand wildly, in an effort to gain the bus driver's attention.

The bus driver is clearly impatient or running late. He makes no attempt to stop for the soaked young man. Despite the expensive suit that he's wearing, Will Darcy is left alone in the rain, shaking his fist angrily at the rumbling bus.

All he can think of is that this would _never _have happened to him in England. Of course, he probably wouldn't be chasing down one of his students late at night in England, either.

Could things get any worse? And just as he's foolishly asking himself that question, the rain suddenly begins to get heavier, thunder cracks and a sudden flash of lightning streaks against the sky.

He rolls his eyes. Could this situation be any more of a cliché?

The only available immediate shelter seems to be at a nearby cafe. Darcy doesn't usually drink coffee at this time of night, but feels like he might make an exception this one time. He needs somewhere warm to stay, while he waits for the storm to pass. This is as good a place as any.

The barista looks surprised when Darcy orders an espresso.

"Are you sure?" he asks hesitantly. "We make it pretty strong here."

"I don't care," Darcy says and he means it. He doesn't think he's going to be sleeping well tonight, anyway.

The cafe is surprisingly crowded for this hour and Darcy realises that his idea to wait in here while the storm rages outside is not an original one. There doesn't seem to be a spare table in the place.

He scans the cafe again and this time, he finally spots an empty seat amidst the crowd.

He cautiously makes his way to the table and hesitates. The young girl occupying the other chair seems to be lost in her book and he feels nervous about disturbing her. Well, actually, on second thoughts, he's pleased – now he won't have to worry about making small talk with a stranger _again._

He taps her gently on the shoulder. "Excuse me, miss. Would you mind if I sat here? It appears to be the only vacant seat in the cafe."

She mumbles something that sounds like "Go ahead," and he smiles gratefully, even though she doesn't look up from her book.

He slides easily into the vacant seat and takes a sip of his espresso. It's hotter than he thought it would be and he finds himself wincing and muttering a quiet profanity.

The girl looks up from her book and he hastens to apologise for disturbing her reading. But his apology dies in his throat.

For the girl sitting across the table from him is none other than Ellie Bennett.

Her hazel eyes meet his.

"Oh, bloody hell," she mumbles and puts her novel down.

_**~ Ellie's POV: ~**_

After exiting Tetsuya's, I had wondered where to go next. I'd briefly considered going home.

But then I'd remembered that Charlotte would be there and while I was sure we'd forgive each other for our behaviour in the morning, I really didn't feel like talking to her at present. With the mood that I was currently in, it would be too easy to snap at her and get into even more of an argument.

So when I'd spotted a well-lit cafe not far from the bus stop, I'd decided that a soothing cup of chamomile tea was just what I needed. And when the storm came, I knew I had made the right decision.

I was surprised by the storm, actually. We don't usually get heavy rain in Sydney. Our rain is more like brief, sporadic showers which turn on and off throughout the day. But I didn't mind the excuse to linger in the cafe and read.

Fortunately, earlier that evening, I'd rejected the tiny silver clutch Jenna had offered to lend me and gone with a larger shoulder bag instead. It might not have been the trendiest accessory but it was big enough to fit everything I wanted to bring along – including a book.

And I'd impressed myself with my choice of pick-me-up therapy. Leaning back into the cushions with my cup of chamomile and one of my favourite novels, I could feel the stress starting to slowly melt away.

That is, until _he _showed up.

Of all the cafes in the Sydney CBD, Will Darcy walks into mine.

I was surprised when he ventured a tiny smile at me. I didn't even know the man _could _smile. And he had _dimples!_

"Hello, Ellie," he says almost apprehensively.

"It's Ellie to my friends and family. It's Miss Loser Drunk to you," I say coldly, shooting him my deadliest glare.

He winces at the harshness of my tone and I feel a sense of smugness wash over me.

_You thought you could get away with putting me down, didn't you? Well, now that I'm sober and not worrying about writing the perfect paper...guess what? I won't let you._

"Perhaps I deserve that," he replies finally and I feel a jolt of surprise.

_Hang on. I'd imagined our next meeting starting off in many different ways. Me roasting him over a fire and turning the spit was one. Me rubbing my hands together in glee as he screamed in agony from the thousands of tiny needles piercing his body was another. But the one scenario I certainly hadn't predicted was an apology. _

He surprises me even further by holding out his hand. "I think we need a fresh introduction. I'm Will Darcy. Pleased to meet you."

And because I'm still kind of in shock and wondering if I'm dreaming this moment, I limply let him shake my hand.

His eyes drift to the cover of my novel and I blush furiously. Oh, why am I not reading something more intelligent like _War and Peace _or _Crime and Punishment? _

To my surprise, his lips are curving upwards into...

Gasp! Is that another smile? Two in one night? Somebody had better call for the doctor!

"That's one of my sister's favourite books," he says and his voice has taken on a gentle quality I've never noticed before.

"Really? Your sister likes _Gone with the Wind _too?"

His smile is fond. "Very much so. When we were children and she wanted to play dress-up, she would _always _want to dress up as Scarlett O'Hara. She had this emerald-green party dress and the cutest feather hat..."

I'm stunned. Sitting in this relaxed cafe setting and talking about his younger sister, Will Darcy actually sounds almost...human.

"And let me guess. Because you were a boy, you had to dress up as one of her beaus. Ashley, perhaps?"

Alright, so I'm still mad at the guy, but I can't resist teasing him a little. Although it's admittedly hard to picture him in the role of weak, wimpy Ashley.

He smiles wryly. "Actually, no. That honour always went to..."

He trails off, frowns and is quiet for a moment. Seeing his green eyes turn stormy, I curiously wonder what's on his mind.

"I was dark-haired, so I was always Rhett," he says finally.

Sardonic, sarcastic, flippant, almost cruel in his words and his actions...

Yes, somehow picturing Will Darcy as Rhett Butler isn't too much of a stretch for my imagination.

"I've never been able to forgive Rhett for what he did to Scarlett," I say. "If he had ever really loved her, he would never have left in the way that he did at the end. You don't just abandon people that you love."

Darcy looks amused. "Are you suggesting that Rhett Butler never _loved _Scarlett O'Hara?" he questions.

And I suppose, given that _Gone with the Wind_ is considered to be a romance novel, it does seem like an odd proposition to put forward.

"Not at all," I protest.

"But he never loved her _enough _to stick around during the moments when she needed him the most.

He wasn't around when she was widowed and didn't know what to do with a newborn baby. He abandoned her on the road to Rough and Ready, potentially leaving her at the mercy of Yankee soldiers and uppity Carpetbags. And when she finally realises, accepts and reveals that she loves him, he rejects her and tells her his love has worn out. That _proves _it wasn't true love. True love is self-sacrificing. True love should..."

The corners of Darcy's eyes crinkle and I notice absently that he actually has laugh lines.

"Should have a happy ending?" he quips with a smirk.

And even though that hadn't been what I was planning to say at all, I do agree with the sentiment somewhat.

"Yes," I say decisively. "True love should have a happy ending."

Darcy looks at me thoughtfully and I expect him to come forward with a smart comment about Romeo and Juliet or some other fictional love couple that didn't get the happy ending.

As always, he surprises me.

"You know, I really must apologise for my abysmal behaviour towards you on that first day," he says quietly.

"If it's any consolation, I had to resolve a family issue that day and was not in the best of moods. I was also extremely sleep-deprived. I know that is little excuse for my inappropriate words to Charlie, but..."

A rush of anger flares up in me. My impulsive temper strikes again.

"_Inappropriate? _That's the understatement of the year!" I exclaim bitterly. "Don't use a family issueas an excuse for your blatant prejudice!"

Darcy seems stunned by the force of my words and when I suggest that his family issue is a mere excuse for prejudice, he actually clenches his fists.

"How _dare _you stoop to such a conclusion?" he growls angrily. "How _dare _you presume to know anything about my family?"

"How dare I? How dare _you _presume, on our very first meeting no less, that I was nothing but a disorganised drunk?"

"Well, you cannot deny that you were inebriated and tardy to the first tutorial of the semester," Darcy says coolly.

Now it's my turn to ball my fists and although I'm dying to make a hot retort, I've just remembered that this guy is my _tutor. _ And that it's probably not the best idea to get into a fight with someone who influences your grades. No matter how much of a tosser he is.

For my sake, more than his, I quietly pick up my cup and stash my novel into my bag. And then I walk away.

"Where do you think you're going?" he calls after me.

"Home!" I say defiantly, not even bothering to look around.

Although I'm walking as fast as I can, it doesn't take long for him to catch up with me. I blame the heels. _How do some women walk all day in these things?_

"Don't be silly. You can't go out in that storm!" he protests.

"Watch me," I say, as I put my bag over my head and walk to the bus stop.

Yes, it's still pouring with rain. Thankfully, I can see a bus pulling up at the curb.

The driver notices my bedraggled state and kindly stops right in front of me. I smile gratefully as I start to fiddle in my wallet for my Travel 10.

"Go ahead, love," the driver says sympathetically. "Looks like you've had a rough night."

"Thank you. You have _no idea," _I say with appreciation, as I head to a seat in the back. It's then that I realise that Darcy has followed me on board.

"What do you think you're doing?" I hiss at him.

"Catching the bus with you," he says mildly, sitting beside me.

_An empty bus filled with available seats and he still wants to sit next to me?_

"No, no. I need some peace and quiet and I'm obviously not going to get it if you're in my immediate proximity," I snap.

He shrugs and ignores my words as he settles back comfortably.

I decide that I really can't put up with his smart-arsed smugness any longer. I start to gather up my things and press the red button in front of me, signalling that I want to get off at the next stop.

"Hey, what are you doing? You can't get off now. It's still raining!" Darcy exclaims in alarm.

"And _you _cannot tell me what I can and can't do," I say simply.

The driver looks back in his rearview mirror. As if our arguing wasn't conspicuous enough, Darcy and I are the only passengers on the bus.

He looks suspiciously at Darcy, obviously wondering if he's my abusive husband or something.

"Are you alright, miss?" he asks gently.

"I'm fine," I say calmly, knowing that any distress on my part will probably result on getting Darcy kicked out of the bus. And since I've already made up my mind to get off at the next stop, that _would _be immensely frustrating.

Darcy grabs my arm as I try to leave my seat.

"Please, Ellie. It's pouring out there. Stay in the bus," he pleads.

"I just live at SUV. I can catch a taxi or wait for another bus. I could even walk it if I wanted to," I retort.

I try to move away and he grips my arm more tightly.

In my defence, I didn't mean to do what happened next. Really.

It all just happened so fast and it was kind of an automatic reflex because he had grabbed my arm...

_Thwack!_

My sudden slap doesn't exactly send Darcy reeling backwards, but it's loud enough that the crack resounds around the empty bus.

His eyes widen in surprise as he brings his hand up to his cheek, which I bet is really stinging right now.

The bus driver pulls up at the next bus stop and immediately turns off the engine.

"Alright, that's it. I refuse to take the two of you as passengers together. One of you will have to get off now," he says calmly.

"Fine, that's me," I say, already prepared to leave.

"No, actually, it'll be me," Darcy corrects. He slides out of his seat and walks to the front of the bus. He pauses to talk to the driver for a moment and I stare out the window, refusing to look at him.

"Oh, thank you, son," I hear the driver say and I assume that Darcy was saying sorry. From the pleased look on the driver's face, Darcy has clearly done a better job of apologising to him than he has to me.

I only look up again when the bus pulls away. It's getting late and I _really w_ant to go to sleep right now. However I've never been comfortable about sleeping on buses and despite my tired state, I'm sticking to my convictions. Besides, what if I miss my stop? There's no-one here to wake me up.

QVB, Town Hall, George Street, World Square, Chinatown...

I smile for the first time as we begin to pass all the familiar landmarks. Every one of those landmarks is bringing me a step closer to home and my bed.

It's not until we zoom past Victoria Park that I start to wonder if something's wrong. Shouldn't we be stopping somewhere around here?

"Excuse me, sir!" I call. "I think we've gone past my stop!"

No response from the man in front. He just keeps on driving.

I thump the red button repeatedly and he still doesn't show any signs of slowing down.

For the first time, I feel a chord of fear strike my heart and wonder if I should have let Darcy stay on the bus, after all.

I hastily fumble around in my bag and pull out my phone, figuring that I should call Jenna or Charlotte. Better to be paranoid than dead, as my sister always says.

_No reception! I might have guessed._

And just as I'm wondering if I can crawl out of the emergency exit without the driver noticing, he suddenly announces, "We're here."

I glance up cautiously, only to gape in surprise. For we're directly outside the on-campus university village where Charlotte and I live.

_How...why...what?_

The driver looks a little worried when he sees me still sitting.

"Something the matter, love? This _is_ the right place, isn't it?"

"Yes," I finally manage to whisper. "But how..."

And then a little lightbulb switches on in my mind. Darcy leaning over to talk to the bus driver...the bus driver eagerly thanking him...

I'm not sure how to phrase this delicately, so I just blurt out what's on my mind.

"Did he...did he _pay you to do this?"_

The driver grins proudly and waves a bill at me.

"A hundred bucks," he says, smiling broadly.

"You may argue with your boyfriend, love, but a man who shells out that kind of dosh to make sure his girl gets home safely is alright in my book."

I swallow. "He's not... I mean, I'm not..."

But I can tell the driver's waiting for me to exit the bus and is probably keen to go home. He doesn't need to hear me babbling right now.

And so I leave.

When I enter our apartment, Charlotte's bedroom door is closed and I am profoundly relieved. I desperately want to talk about the events which have transpired that evening and decide I'll make up with Charlotte in the morning.

But right now, I'm just too tired. And all I want to do is sleep.

As soon as my head hits the pillow, I fall asleep. And I dream all night about an infuriating green-eyed man.

_**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who took the time to review the last chapter! You have NO IDEA how happy your kind words and encouragement have made me. =)**_

_**Freshly baked apple strudel for my anonymous reviewers (you know who you are!), CuriousGeorgie, ExtendableEars, Pasqui, Sissinghurst, Harriate Slate, head in the clouds 14, Sammie28, Courtney CS, WriteWriteWrite, Korrigan37, lynniern, Avanell, dieteke, rena, Zalaril, Weave the Magic, loveandsqualor, purplegirl-af, dontstealmyvitaminies, Awesomest Tiger, tom, Lily, Dana, tcdavis, luvlit19, Cathy King and amroush.**_

_**I'm sorry that I couldn't give Darcy and Ellie a nice romantic moment in the rain.**_

_**Believe me, I would have liked to, but they're both very stubborn characters and were horrified when I made the suggestion. Ellie even threatened to boycott this story at the very thought of it! Although I suspect Darcy would have interested. **_

_**But I hope you enjoyed this chapter, anyway.**_

_**I won't be offering any more bribes or incentives for leaving reviews. I think I've made my feelings on the matter quite clear. All I can promise you is more chapters of this story.**_

_**I'm just going to go with my gut instincts and trust that if you really do like the story, you'll leave a review and let me know. And even if you don't like it, you'll tell me why and offer some constructive criticism for improvement.**_

_**Remember, reviews are the fuel for a writer's pen. Or in this case, the fuel for a writer's laptop. =)**_

_**What's going to happen in the next chapter? I have a few different ideas but even I'm not sure which one I'll use yet. What would you like to see happen? I promise to read all suggestions, no matter how crazy! I'm looking forward to seeing what you'll come up with... **_


	8. The New Acquaintance

When I shuffle sleepily out of my bedroom the next morning, Charlotte's door is still closed.

I glance at the clock. It's only 7:30.

I figure she'll sleep for at least another hour or so, giving me enough time to slip out for my habitual morning jog around Victoria Park.

Jenna loves her yoga classes and Pilates and the only exercise Mary thinks about is practising piano scales. My younger sister Lisa's recently become a fan of Zumba, which is a fitness program set to Latin music. But I've always preferred good old-fashioned jogging. I grab my iPod from my bedside table and head out the door.

It's one of those beautiful sunny days that makes you feel happy to be alive. The pigeons are cooing merrily, the ducks are swimming around the pond and there are heaps of people sitting in the park and enjoying an early sunbathe.

I do a quick warm-up and begin the first lap. It's not long before I fall into a rhythm and I manage to jog for a good hour and a half before I decide to call it quits. I feel pretty happy with what I've done. I'm sure I've worked off all the calories I've consumed in the past couple of days. At least that's what I'm going to tell myself.

Feeling more than a little hot and sweaty, I decide it's time to cool down with a drink. And there's only one drink that can soothe my parched throat at this moment – a raspberry smoothie from Badde Manors Cafe. I can practically taste it now.

Badde Manors is one of my favourite places to eat. It's a strictly vegetarian/vegan cafe that's just a few minutes' walk from campus. Charlotte and I discovered it during our first year of uni and have come back fairly regularly ever since. They have a really eclectic menu, which offers a wide range of cuisine from Asian and African to Mediterranean and Latin American. But right now, all I want is that raspberry smoothie.

I head straight for the cafe and place my order with the smiling waitress.

"Are you having it here?" she asks cheerfully.

I'm about to say no, when I reconsider. After all that jogging, sitting down and relaxing with my smoothie sounds like a good idea.

"Sure," I say, and look around for a vacant table.

My stomach growls slightly at all the delicious platters of food on people's tables. I really wish I could order some breakfast, but I know I'll have to wait, as I'd been hoping to clear things up with Charlotte first.

_Maybe we can come back and have breakfast here together, _I think, hoping to pacify my rumbling tummy.

"Here's your smoothie," the waitress says and I smile and pay her.

"Sorry, it looks like we're quite crowded today," she says with a frown. "Would you mind sharing with that gentleman, perhaps?"

I look over at the same time that the gentleman does. And I'm struck with a sudden flash of déjà vu. Because sitting alone at the vacant table is none other than Will Darcy.

He offers me a tentative smile. "You're welcome to sit here if you'd like."

"Thank you," I say, pulling up a chair and sitting opposite him.

There's an awkward silence for a minute or two, before he finally speaks up.

"I trust you got home safely last night."

I think about how he had paid the bus driver to take me home and I can't help but feel touched. No man has ever done anything quite so _nice _for me before.

"I did. Thank you," I say quietly as I take a sip of my smoothie.

"And I'm really sorry for what I did to you...you know," I add awkwardly, still embarrassed about the slap I'd given him.

His eyes brighten and he smiles and I can't help noticing his adorable dimples again. He really should smile more often.

"And I apologise for grabbing your arm," he says. "Now that we've gotten all these apologies off our chests, shall we let the bugles sing truce?"

"Absolutely," I agree wholeheartedly.

"Your pancakes and side orders, sir," the waitress interrupts, putting a heaped plate of food in front of Darcy.

I can barely restrain my drool.

The warm pancakes are drizzled with a smattering of maple syrup and topped with fresh ricotta and blackberries. His side orders are pan-fried mushrooms and grilled haloumi, the perfect savoury edge to balance out the pancakes' sweetness. I swallow and try not to stare too obviously.

But I'm clearly not doing a good job of hiding my food envy because Darcy raises his eyes to meet mine.

"Are you waiting for your breakfast?" he asks cordially. I'm mortified to have been caught staring at his pancakes like a hungry cat eyeing a goldfish bowl.

"No, I plan to have breakfast with my flatmate Charlotte later. I'm just having the smoothie for now," I explain.

Darcy lifts an eyebrow. "Shame. These pancakes are rather appetising." And he takes a huge bite of one as if he needs more evidence to prove his point.

Then he gives me a sly glance. Is that a twinkle in his eye?

_It is! He knows I want those pancakes and he's deliberately torturing me anyway. Oh, he's evil..._

"Such a shame you can't order some right now," he adds, and this time I can't mistake his cheeky grin.

I glare at him. "Remember when we discussed Prometheus in our last tutorial? I'm pretty sure Zeus' choice of torture was less severe than this."

"Really?" he says in mock surprise. "Having a vulture peck your regenerating liver for eternity is no more severe than watching me eat these pancakes?"

And with that last comment, he puts another forkful into his mouth and winks.

"Perhaps I should go," I suggest.

"Oh, come now! I'm only teasing," he says. He scoops up another tantalising forkful of pancake and ricotta and waves it temptingly in front of me.

"Here, have a taste," he offers.

"Are you sure?" I ask. "Once I get a taste for those pancakes, I may be forced to wrestle you for your plate."

"As long as you don't slap me."

I accept his fork and close my eyes blissfully as I take my first bite.

"Mmm...that is so good!"

I look up to see Darcy studying my expression with a half-smile on his face.

Seeing the look of delight in my eyes, he flags down the waitress and asks her for another fork.

"I'll share the rest of this bounty with you," he promises.

Part of me wants to decline his offer and the other part...is just enjoying the pancakes way too much.

As we eat, we start talking about our hobbies and our favourite books and I'm quite pleased to discover that Darcy isn't a bad breakfast companion at all. Without Charlie there to force us to make small talk, we actually manage to have a pretty decent conversation. We even seem to have a lot in common.

"You know, you're not so bad when you're not acting like you're up yourself," I say frankly, taking advantage of the easy camaraderie that we've built up.

Darcy frowns and looks puzzled. "Up yourself? What do you mean?"

"Acting like a jerk...wanker...tosser?"

Darcy laughs. "Ah, I see what you mean now," he says.

He looks directly into my eyes. "A tosser... Is that what you think of me?"

"No! Of course not. That is, to say, I _used _to think that of you. But not anymore," I reassure him.

_Good save, Ellie. That wasn't too clumsy at all._

A smile plays on the corners of his mouth. "And what do you think of me now?"

_Damn it._

"Well, uh..."

Darcy waits patiently while I fumble for words. It's apparent from the smirk on his face that he isn't going to let me off the hook. At least, he has no intention of doing so.

But then - I'm still not quite sure what happened - he unexpectedly does.

As I'm thinking of just the right words to say, he suddenly looks past my shoulder and seems to see something disagreeable. His playful smile instantly disappears and once again, those green eyes take on a blank, stony expression.

"Are you alright?" I ask in concern.

Darcy seems to be staring into the distance and when I tentatively wave a hand in front of his face, he finally seems to snap out of his trance.

"I'm terribly sorry but I must rush off. I've just remembered that I have an appointment," he stutters weakly.

He gets up from his seat and hastily starts to push back his chair.

"Is everything OK?" I ask again. His tanned complexion has paled considerably and I'm disturbed by his ashy pallor.

"Just fine," he murmurs distractedly, reaching for his wallet. He throws a couple of bills down on the table.

"I'll see you in class, then," I say hopefully.

He nods. "Class. Yes. I'll see you in class."

And just like that – with hardly any warning – he strides to the door and soon disappears from sight.

I'm left with the remnants of my smoothie (the pancakes have long since disappeared), puzzling over Darcy's abrupt change of mood.

_Just when I had begun to think he was a normal person..._

"Excuse me, is anyone sitting here?" says a male voice and I look up in surprise.

Standing there is a tall lanky guy with longish brown hair and pale blue eyes. He's carrying a plate of scrambled eggs and smiling hopefully at me.

"I don't mean to disturb you. It's just that there's no other vacant seats," he explains.

I absently notice that he has a British accent and wonder that I've met so many British people recently.

"Sure, sit down," I say, moving my plate and glass to the left, so that he can put his plate down.

"Thank you," he says with a grin.

I feel like I should leave now and let him have the table to himself, but he speaks to me before I can go.

"So, I suppose you're from Sydney Uni too?"

"Yes," I say with a smile. "I'm in my last year of an Arts degree."

"What a coincidence!" he exclaims. "I always wanted to do an Arts degree but had my arm twisted into doing Commerce instead."

"Oh, that's too bad," I say. "Your parents' choice, was it?"

He looks down at his plate. "No, it was my guardian, actually," he says with a heavy sigh. "My parents are dead."

"I'm sorry," I say tentatively.

He shrugs. "Well, it's been a long time."

"Do you like your course at all?" I ask, figuring we should steer clear of the topic of his parents. I don't really feel comfortable discussing personal matters with complete strangers and I'm glad that he seems to feel the same.

"Not really. The only thing that keeps me going is knowing it'll get me a job one day," he says with a grin.

"Not like you Arts students who are going to end up flipping burgers at the local fast food chain." Then he winks, so that I know he's kidding, and I relax. I'd been all set to go into my 'An arts degree is worthwhile' speech.

"But why are we talking about _Commerce, _when I could be learning your name instead?" he says charmingly.

I laugh. "I'm Ellie. Ellie Bennett. What's your name?"

He puts his fork down and shakes my hand solemnly.

"Nice to meet you, Ellie Bennett," he says with a cheeky grin. "I'm Johnny. Johnny Wickham."

_**Author's Note: Yes, Wickham has entered the story and trust me, things are about to get even more interesting now...**_

_**Sending thanks and virtual homemade lemon tarts to those who reviewed: **_

_**Alpha Cucumber, apple, Absit Invidia, Christina Joseph, dieteke, Harriate Slate, tcdavis, dontstealmyvitaminies, fi 91, Lily, ForeverHana, Sissinghurst, sammie28, purplegirl-af, Avanell, CourtneyCS, TOFFEEMA, loveandsqualor, head in the clouds 14, Elizabeth Lullaby, Awesomest Tiger, hokiegal31, gloriacor, cucumber fairy and Korrigan37.**__**You're all awesome!**_

"I'm


	9. The Invitation

When I go back to the apartment, Charlotte is awake and sitting on our couch, reading the _Sun Herald._ I look at her warily, unsure of my reception.

"Hey, Ellie," she says quietly and I breathe an inward sigh of relief. From the apologetic tone in her voice, I can tell that she's also eager to put our brief conflict behind us.

"Hey, Char," I respond, tentatively sitting on the armchair opposite the couch.

There are a few seconds of awkward silence before she jumps up from the couch and gives me a big hug.

"I'm sorry for being such a bitch to Jenna," she says sadly. "She really didn't deserve that and I don't know what I was thinking."

Mollified by Charlotte's apology, I hug her back.

"No harm done," I assure her. "Unless I caused any damage by turning on your straightener and if I did, I'm sorry. I'll replace anything that got wrecked."

Charlotte laughs. "I wish I could say that yes, you singed my Gucci trench coat or Prada bag or something, but we both know there are no designer names in my wardrobe."

And just like that, I know we're OK again and I'm profoundly relieved.

"Hey, have you had breakfast yet?" she says, shooting a quick glance at the clock. "Want to head out for a bite?"

"I'm full, actually," I confess. "I went jogging this morning and worked up a bit of an appetite. I ended up heading to Badde Manors for a raspberry smoothie."

Charlotte's brow furrows. "Since when have you ever gotten full on a raspberry smoothie?" she asks, genuinely puzzled. I can't blame her, as she knows my voracious appetite all too well.

I hesitate and then fill her in on how I unexpectedly wound up sharing Will Darcy's breakfast.

Her eyes widen. "Oh, my God! _The _Will Darcy?"

I pause. "Well, he's the only Will Darcy I know, but I'm not sure that gives him the right to be called _the _Will Darcy."

Charlotte sighs impatiently. "For a news junkie, you sure don't know much about things like this," she mutters. She reaches out for her laptop on the coffee table and clicks on the Google icon.

I'm suddenly filled with a feeling of déjà vu, only this time Charlotte is the one in control and I'm playing Jenna's role of ignorance.

"Aha!" she shouts triumphantly. "Just take a look at that."

I gaze at the screen and roll my eyes immediately. Because I'm looking at an article called 'Sydney's 50 Most Eligible Bachelors.'

"I think I'm looking at the wrong page, Char," I say, quickly clicking on the other window to figure out what Charlotte wants me to look at.

But no, the only other open window is a discount voucher for a Brazilian wax at a beauty salon in Bondi Junction. Creative as I may be, I can't fathom why _that _would have anything to do with Will Darcy.

Charlotte peers over my shoulder. "No, that's the right site!" she says enthusiastically. "Scroll down a little. No, up a bit more. Down... up... Oh, just look at Number 20!"

I look closely at Bachelor 20 and I swallow hard when I realise that the bare-chested Adonis in the picture is none other than my insufferable tutor.

"It can't be! I thought you had to be _Australian _to be part of something like this!" I protest. Although, if Bachelors 19 and 21 are anything to go by, the article _really _needed some foreign input.

"No, you don't have to be _from _Sydney, you just have to reside here," Charlotte explains patiently.

I swiftly skim read Darcy's bio. It says he's 25 (five years older than me – not that I care, I just couldn't help observing), enjoys good books, photography and fine wine, his favourite game is Scrabble and...

Holy crap!

"Yes, Ellie, that is how much his family estate is worth," Charlotte says smugly. "He's a millionaire times a bazillion."

I gape. "No wonder he and Charlie Bingley are friends!"

"He could buy out Everett Bingley's empire and still have change left over for a private island in the Caribbean," Charlotte corrects me.

She grabs my arm excitedly. "So when you guys get married, promise you'll still remember me. And introduce me to all his rich friends."

I laugh out loud. Will Darcy and I get married? There was a higher chance of Barney the Dinosaur winning a seat in the Senate at the next election.

"One accidental breakfast with Will Darcy does not a wedding make," I inform Charlotte. Then I frown, as I remember his early departure. "In fact, he didn't even stay for the whole thing."

Charlotte looks confused and then her expression clears unexpectedly.

"You didn't mention how many kids you wanted, did you?" she asks. "I don't know why, but guys find that a bit off-putting."

I stare at her in disbelief. Part of me really wants to believe she's joking... and the other part of me has a sinking feeling that she isn't.

"Char, you're kidding, right? You didn't _actually _tell a guy how many kids you wanted at the end of the first date?"

"No!" Charlotte shoots back defensively. "It was more like... in the first fifteen minutes, actually."

I groan. "I think I'm going to have to side with the guy on that one. You really need to watch _How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days, _Char.Great movie."

"Oh, it's easy for you to say," Charlotte says bitterly. "You attract guys without even trying, Ellie! You had a guy ready to _propose _to you and you turned him down. You have breakfast with a hot bachelor millionaire and you don't even realise it! Imagine if you did _everything_ you could to find Mr Right and couldn't even find Mr Not So Right. That's my life."

I'm struck by the melancholy chord in Charlotte's voice. She's never been the type to show much emotion and yet, here she is, pouring her heart out. I don't really know what to say, so I just reach out and give her another big hug instead.

Before I'm even fully cognizant, she leans on my shoulder and begins sobbing. Through her muffled cries, she wails about how her biological clock is ticking and she's never even come close to having a steady boyfriend and how it's only going to get harder as she gets older. This is coming from someone in her early twenties, mind you.

I can't help clenching my fist slightly and hating Desiree Lucas fiercely. There is no doubt in my mind that she's the one who's responsible for Charlotte's clearly troubled psyche.

I think of the similarities between my mother and Charlotte's mother and I shudder. If it hadn't been for the steadying influence of our beloved father, my sisters and I could very well be in the same predicament.

We talk for a couple of hours and after a mug of hot chocolate and a couple of Tim Tams, Charlotte finally says she's feeling better.

The timing works out well for me because I need to head off and meet my new mentee, as part of volunteering in the university mentoring program. I'm reluctant to leave Charlotte on her own, though, so I call a mutual friend of ours. Together, we persuade Charlotte to go to the soccer match on the university oval.

Meanwhile, I'm off to the jacaranda tree in the Quadrangle, where I've arranged to meet my new mentee.

So I should probably explain. This particular mentoring program is run by the Arts faculty. It's an opportunity for second and third-year Arts students to be matched with first-year students and serve as a guide/guru. I was matched up with a great girl named Bec when I was in first year and she was amazingly helpful – providing directions, advice on the hottest on and off campus hangouts and a shoulder to cry on when things got tough. We still keep in touch today and I only hope I can be half as good a mentor as she was.

I arrive at the jacaranda tree a few minutes early and take the opportunity to sit in the sun with my novel.

I'm soon engrossed in the scene where Rhett is proposing to Scarlett and I'm actually a little startled when a slender girl steps in front of my sunlight and says hesitantly, "Excuse me. Are you Ellie?"

"Yes! And you must be Georgiana," I say.

"Call me Georgie," she says warmly.

I quickly put my book down and stand up to greet her. She glances at the novel and smiles.

"_Gone with the Wind. _I _love _that book!"

Any worries I've had about whether or not we'll click are instantly dissipated. I have a feeling we're going to get along just fine.

My original instincts are only further confirmed through the rest of the afternoon. We head out to Newtown and I take her to three of my favourite second-hand bookshops, all on King Street – Better Read Than Dead, Elizabeth's Bookshop and Gould's.

She's struck speechless at Gould's and I don't blame her at all. It's a paradise for bookaholics – everywhere you look, there are shelves of books, as far as the eye can see. We separate, so that we can go 'browse' and 'window-shop' and burst into laughter when we meet again at the cash register, our arms piled high with second-hand treasures.

I sneak a peek at her pile and smile when I see classics such as _Oliver Twist, To Kill a Mockingbird, Catcher in the Rye, 1984 and Wuthering Heights _amongst modern writers such as Cathy Kelly, Lee Goldberg and Elizabeth Peters. Yep. Definitely a girl after my own heart.

I'm almost disappointed when Georgie says she needs to head home and start work on an assignment. We head our separate ways, but not before agreeing to meet for a coffee in a couple of days.

As I start walking back to campus, my phone rings. It's Jenna. I haven't spoken to her since the disastrous dinner at Tetsuya's and I figure she's calling for an explanation for mine and Darcy's behaviour.

I sigh and flip the phone open.

"Hey, Jen. Listen, I'm sorry about running out so quickly the other night..."

"Don't worry about that," my sister interrupts dismissively. My hackles go up as I hear the genuine alarm in her voice.

"What's wrong?" I ask quickly.

"Oh, Ellie, you are _not _going to believe what Mum has done now," Jenna says wearily.

I rack my brains but have trouble thinking of something that would cause the level of panic I can hear in Jenna's voice.

"Uh... she's arranged a marriage between you and a blind leper who lives in a colony in the Himalayas?"

"Worse," Jenna groans and my eyebrows shoot up. "She's invited Charlie to stay with us for the upcoming weekend."

_Oh, God. It really was worse._

"Well, that's OK," I say, trying to keep my voice light. "Just tell him to decline the invitation."

"Too late," Jenna sighs. "He's already accepted. He says he's really keen to meet the family."

_Oh, you poor man. You have no idea what you're in for._

"_And _she insisted on throwing a big party to welcome him too. Of course, it'll only be to rub Desiree Lucas' face in it."

"Well, that might make things easier," I say optimistically. "If Mum's busy entertaining, she won't get to spend much time with Charlie."

Jenna snorts. "Are you kidding? She'll be dancing attendance on him all night. I'll be lucky to even _see _him once Mum's got him in her grasp."

"Don't worry, I'll help you out," I promise. "And I assume poor Charlotte's going to get invited to this shindig too, so maybe I can get her to provide a few distractions for Mum."

Jenna hesitates. "You haven't even heard the rest yet, Ellie."

I'm suddenly afraid. "What's the rest?"

"Well, I'm not sure what happened the other night at Tetsuya's, but Charlie and I got the feeling that there was something going on between you and Will," Jenna says slowly.

"There is _nothing _going on between us! He's just my tutor," I snap.

Jeez. First Charlotte and now Jenna. Was the world suddenly conspiring to form a relationship between Will Darcy and myself?

"Whatever," Jenna says tiredly. "I still don't think you're going to be too happy with this."

"With what?" I ask cautiously. Now I really am nervous.

"Well, Mum somehow found out that Charlie and Will were friends and she managed to persuade Charlie to invite Will down. He'll be with us this weekend too."

There's a pause.

"Ellie? Are you still there? Ellie!"

_Is this what a heart attack feels like?_

_**Author's Note: Did the appearance of Wickham scare everyone away?**_

_**Thanks to those who did review the last chapter – tcdavis, Harriate Slate, Avanell, head in the clouds 14, Courtney CS, TimeIsDead, Sakura Potter Hayes and gilzgal. =)**_

_**The three second-hand bookstores I mentioned are all real. If you love second-hand bookstores and are anywhere near King Street, Newtown, Gould's is definitely worth a visit. Even when I don't plan on buying anything, I somehow wind up finding books that need a home on my shelves.**_

_**By the way, does anyone in this fandom watch The Big Bang Theory? I just discovered the show recently, bought the first season on DVD and I've already made my way through the first two discs. I would absolutely HATE Sheldon if I knew someone like him in real life, but he's my favourite character on the show. **_

_**Anyway, enough rambling from me. I do hope you enjoyed this chapter! =)**_


	10. The Realisation

"Rise and shine, little sis!"

I groan. It's only seven in the morning and my annoyingly perky sister has just walked into my room without knocking. She starts pulling my blinds up, letting in a stream of golden sunshine that hits me directly in the eyes.

"Jenna, the sun's in my eyes!" I wail plaintively, rolling over and burying my face in my doona.

Jenna is unsympathetic.

"Well, that means it's time for you to get out of bed, silly!" she says gaily. "Hurry up and get ready! Charlie's going to be picking us up in half an hour and I don't want to keep him waiting."

I stare at her suspiciously. "You're looking surprisingly cheerful for someone who thought she would be facing impending doom this weekend."

Jenna giggles. "Oh, I guess I have a good reason to be happy," she replies serenely.

Seeing the quizzical expression on my face, she smiles coyly. "Can you keep a secret?"

I snort. "Please. Need I remind you of a certain misdemeanour that has remained undisclosed for fourteen years?"

Jenna blushes at the memory. "OK, I'll tell you, because I'm dying to tell _someone! _Just don't breathe a word of it to Mum... not yet, anyway."

"I promise," I say curiously, wondering what the big secret is.

Jenna grins and pulls out her phone. She scrolls through her photos until she finds the one she's looking for and then shows me, still with that disarming cheesy grin on her face.

The picture's somewhat grainy, so it takes me a moment to recognise what's in it. And when I do, I can't hold my surprise.

"Oh, my God! Is that what I think it is?" I squeal.

"Shush, don't wake Charlotte," Jenna admonishes, but she's glowing far too much to look stern. "But yes, it's an engagement ring."

"I can't believe it!" I say in awe. "That's some rock – it's almost the same size as my fingernail!"

I glance at Jenna's left hand, hoping to get a look at the real thing, but her ring finger is still bare.

She follows my glance. "It was a little big on my finger. Charlie's taking it to a jeweller next week, so it can get resized."

"Your whole _finger _will need to be resized, in order to wear that piece of bling!" I tease.

Part of me is still reeling with shock. I can't believe that my beautiful older sister is now _engaged._

I reach out impulsively and wrap my arms around her, pulling her into a huge hug.

"Congratulations, Jen. I'm so happy for you."

"I'm glad," she says with a smile. She hugs me back, before pulling away and gazing at me curiously. "You're not... uncomfortable with us being engaged, are you? Since Peter and you broke up..."

Dear, sweet Jenna. She's engaged to the man of her dreams and she's still worried about how I might feel about it.

"I'm more than fine, honestly," I tell her. "I've never regretted the decision that I made."

"Good," Jenna says, looking relieved. "I know that you were in a really serious relationship and I don't think I could've told you this then... but I never really liked the guy."

I feel slightly betrayed. "You never liked him? But you were always so enthusiastic when I was going out with him – helping me pick out what to wear for dates, giving me advice..."

Jenna purses her lips. "I did those things because that's what sisters _do, _Ellie. They support one another and help each other out. But I never thought that he was the right guy for you. He's too much of a..."

She hesitates and I pounce. "Too much of a _what, _Jenna?"

"Too much of a trophy boy," she says reluctantly. And I surprise her when I burst out laughing. I've never thought about Peter in that way before, but it's actually the perfect description.

Peter is always well-groomed and immaculately dressed, welcomed at the most prestigious events and to tell the truth... a bit of a snob. In hindsight, I actually have no idea how we ended up dating for as long as we did.

No, I do know, actually. Ironic as this may sound, it was actually Jenna that kept Peter interested in me.

It was clothes from _her _wardrobe that I wore on our dates, it was _her _instruction on etiquette that helped me pass the unspoken tests at society functions and it was _her _advice that had secured his attention in the first place.

I had told Jenna the truth. I've never regretted turning down Peter's proposal. Well, to be honest, I thought I was just postponing it at the time. But looking back at our relationship now, I almost feel like I've had a narrow escape.

We were always at high-brow events like philosophy lectures and fancy dinner parties. I couldn't remember the last time we'd just had fun hanging out somewhere casual. Now that I think about it, the one time we'd been to the pub together had been for my 20th and that was only because Jenna had organised my birthday drinks!

A narrow escape, indeed.

"Are you alright, Ellie?" Jenna asks a little anxiously and I realise I've gotten lost in my thoughts.

"Great, just great," I say, forcing myself to concentrate on my sister and her exciting news.

"And are you really happy, Jen? Are you sure Charlie's the right guy for you? You haven't been dating for all that long."

Jenna smiles knowingly. "They say when it's right, you know," she says thoughtfully. "And I know it sounds weird and I know we've only been going out for a short while... but yes, I am really happy, Ellie. And I really do think he's the right one. I've never felt like this with _any _of my exes in the past, even though I went out with some of them for much longer."

"Then I am _genuinely doubly happy _for you," I say firmly. "And nobody deserves it more."

Jenna looks touched by my words and she leans over and gives me another tight hug.

"So when's the big day? Have you set a date yet?"

Jenna twirls a blonde curl absentmindedly. "No, not yet. It's a bit hard to set a date when neither of us have broken the news to our families yet."

_Ping! _A little lightbulb goes off in my head.

"Is _that _why you're suddenly happy about going home this weekend? Are you going to be breaking the news, then?"

" No!" Jenna insists. "Mum's already excited enough about Charlie's visit, without breaking the news of the engagement this weekend too. But it will be a good opportunity for him to meet the family, I guess."

She looks apprehensive and I don't blame her. Introducing your fiancé to his future in-laws is pressure enough and when you consider that those in-laws are _our _family members...

"I'll try to restrain Lisa," I vow. "And prevent Dad from asking any embarrassing questions. Oh, and maybe I'll ask Mary to play piano during the party – that'll keep her distracted."

Jenna laughs. "You've got it all figured out, haven't you? But what about Mum?"

I hold up my arms in surrender. "Hey, I'm not a miracle worker. These are hands, not wands."

We giggle together.

"So , speaking of intimidating in-laws, I can't believe you're going to be related to Everett Bingley!" I exclaim. "When are you going to meet Charlie's family?"

"Oh, actually his two sisters are coming down for the weekend too," Jenna says eagerly. "Mum's put Lisa in Mary's room and Charlie's sisters will share Lisa's room."

_As if I hadn't had enough surprises lately..._

"What are they like? Has Charlie told you anything about them?"

Jenna pauses to think. "A little bit. His older sister's called Louisa. She's actually married, but her husband isn't able to come to the party. And his younger sister is Caroline. She's not married but..."

She smiles conspiratorially at me. "You'll get a kick out of this, Ellie. Apparently she's got the hots for Will. Too bad he's already engaged, huh?"

Jenna thinks she's just passing on some light-hearted gossip, but the news hits me like a punch to the stomach.

"He's taken?" I whisper. "But I saw him in that article... Sydney's 50 Most Eligible Bachelors..."

Even as I speak, I realise the folly of my words. If they can stretch the truth by using a British citizen in an article about Sydney men, why wouldn't they pretend that an engaged man was a bachelor?

Jenna shrugs carelessly. "Oh, I don't know... maybe they ran out of eligible bachelors and had to pick on the taken men!"

She looks down at her unadorned ring finger with a smile. "I'm just glad they didn't use _my _man for an article like that."

Just then there's a beep outside and Jenna looks up in consternation.

"Oh, my God! I totally lost track of time!" she says in panic. "Ellie, you'd better hurry up and get dressed. I'll tell Charlie we're running a little late."

"Okay," I reply and make a show of turning to my wardrobe and sorting through my clothes.

As Jenna exits, I lose all appearance of efficiency and sink back onto my bed.

_Will Darcy is engaged?_

I guess it shouldn't be _that _much of a surprise.

Sure, he might be arrogant, cocky and downright irritating sometimes... but he's also unbelievably intelligent, charming, cheeky, thoughtful and sweet. Not to mention good-looking...

Suddenly I start feeling a little dizzy. Thinking I must be dehydrated, I reach for the glass on my bedside table and take a quick swig, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror at the same time.

I'm surprised to see that my face is flushed all over, in the way that it only does when I'm really embarrassed... or when I'm...

_Oh, no. There must be some mistake. It's not possible!_

But being a history student, it's just not in me to run away from truth. As much as I don't want to admit it, all the facts and evidence are there. I can't deny the obvious conclusion any longer.

I have a HUGE crush on Will Darcy.

_**Author's Note: Many thanks to Avanell, CourtneyCS, lynniern, Alethea R. Gray, Sissinghurst, Korrigan37, beatrixbelden, Amandald98, Harriate Slate, mgtiff, Suoh Christina Mori, tcdavis, LaLa De Dum, head in the clouds14, Valmoni and angela87 for your reviews of the last chapter.**_

_**To all those who are reading this, I hope you enjoyed this one! Keep the feedback coming. =) Everyone will be at Casa Bennett in the next chapter and there's sure to be some drama!**_

_**Oh, and indulging in a bit of shameless self-promotion here – if anyone's an Emma fan here, you may be interested in reading my modern story Symmetry in the Emma fandom. ;)**_


	11. The Poem

"We're here!" Charlie announces brightly, as he pulls into our family's driveway.

He actually seems _excited _about the prospect of meeting our family and for the life of me, I can't understand why. Doesn't he watch movies? Doesn't he know that meeting prospective in-laws _always _ends up in disaster?

_And having Will Darcy along will just make things even more awkward..._

I shoot a quick look of trepidation at Jenna. She sees the very real concern in my eyes and reaches over to squeeze my hand.

"It'll be alright, Ellie," she whispers softly. Then she smiles mischievously. "Besides what are you so worried about? It's me and Charlie who'll be under scrutiny this weekend – you might actually manage to escape unscathed for once."

"Yeah, maybe," I say doubtfully. And as we walk towards the house, I feel my spirits starting to lift.

Jenna's right – this weekend is going to be all about Jenna and Charlie. No-one's even going to notice I'm there.

_Wonder if they'd notice if I wasn't there. _

I eye Charlie's retreating back speculatively. _Perhaps I could convince him to give me a lift to the train station... maybe they won't even notice I'm gone._

"Ellie!"

_Too late._

My head snaps up immediately at the sound of a familiar voice. It's Peter. My ex-boyfriend/almost-fiance Peter. Standing on my front doorstep in the very place where we'd broken up months ago.

_What the hell is he doing here? Now I really do want to run away._

"Ellie," he repeats as I hesitantly walk towards the door. "It's good to see you again."

I'm not in the mood for formalities. I look at him questioningly.

"What are you doing here?" I ask coolly, my voice tinged with ice.

He looks slightly taken aback by my frosty demeanour, but recovers admirably.

"Your mum invited me," he says simply. "Said she'd missed having me around and told me that you and Jenna were coming home for the weekend."

He takes my hand. "She said _you _missed me too, Ellie."

I sputter in disbelief. Of all the crazy things Mum's done to interfere with my life, this has to be one of the worst! 

"She's putting words in my mouth. I've said no such thing!"

"She said you haven't been able to move on, that you haven't even gone out with another guy since we broke up."

_What? OK, I have to nip this in the bud right now._

"That's not true," I say as calmly as I can.

Peter looks at me quizzically. "So you _are _going out with someone else, then?"

I falter. Will Darcy's green eyes spring to mind... but an accidental breakfast doesn't exactly count as a date.

Then I remember Johnny...

"Yes!" I say quickly. "There _is _a guy in the picture and I like him. I really do."

Peter looks sceptical, as though he thinks I'm trying to make this all up. "So you've gone out with this guy?"

_Well, he did sit at my breakfast table and we had a pretty good time chatting. Plus he did ask for my number... even though he hasn't called._

"Yes," I say firmly. "And even if I wasn't, Peter Collins, it's no longer any of your business."

Peter looks stunned, and probably rightly so. I never bothered to stand up to him while we were dating – I was always happy to go with the flow and do whatever he wanted to do.

_Well, not anymore, _I resolve determinedly. _Even if I've made this decision a little too late._

Fortunately Charlotte comes out of the kitchen at that point and catches sight of me standing in the doorway.

"Ellie! You're here!" she squeals. "How did I manage to beat you here when you guys left before I woke up?"

Then she notices Peter and blushes instantly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt anything..."

"You're not interrupting anything at all," I assure her hastily. "I'd better get inside and say hi to the family."

"I'll come with you," Peter pipes up.

I shoot a desperate look at Charlotte. Thankfully, she seems to understand the awkwardness of the situation.

"Hey, Peter, I've got a pretty heavy suitcase in my car. Any chance you could help me with it?" she says sweetly.

Looking flattered that he might be useful to _someone, _Peter instantly agrees.

"I guess I'll see you later, Ellie," he says hopefully.

"Maybe," I say noncommittally, secretly promising myself that he won't. There is _no way _that I'm going to spend the weekend with my family, Will Darcy _and _my ex-boyfriend.

'Cause that would just be asking for trouble.

**XX**

It doesn't take long to find my family. With the exception of my father, who I'm assuming has locked himself in his study for the weekend, they're all gathered in the living room and peppering Jenna and Charlie with questions.

My mother seems to have appointed herself as Charlie's personal assistant. Every few minutes, she offers him a drink, suggests that he sits in a more comfortable chair and solicitously asks if there is anything she can do for him.

Charlie seems to take her eagerness in his stride.

_As heir to the Bingley fortune, he's probably accustomed to people fanning over him, _I realise.

Jenna, however, is not. Although she looks beautiful and confident as always, I can tell from her fidgeting that she hates being the centre of attention. Only Charlie's hand, firmly grasping hers, seems to make her feel better.

"Charlie, you don't have any brothers or cousins, do you?" my mother asks coyly. She flutters her lashes at him. "I still have two single daughters, you know."

Mary looks embarrassed, but Lisa seems excited by the prospect of meeting one of Charlie Bingley's wealthy relatives or friends.

"Be sure to let them know that I am available first," she says loudly. "Mary here is so busy with the piano – she would never have time for a boyfriend!"

"Lisa!" Jenna says reprovingly, but my younger sister looks unrepentant.

"What? It's true, isn't it?"

It takes a few minutes to sink in, but I suddenly realise the significance of my mother's words.

_Two single daughters. She either has disowned me as a daughter... or she thinks I'm no longer single. Did she really think Peter and I would have made up? After the way he'd treated me?_

I thought of Peter's presence at our house this weekend and imagine him and my mother conspiring about how they could get us back together. I cringe.

Even though I've already made up my mind about where Peter and I stand, I am even _more _determined not to let him back into my life now. Any man who'd rather to talk to my mother about me than talk to me directly is just not worth it. I could never picture Will Darcy doing such a thing...

I feel my cheeks heat up as Will's face comes to mind once more. This stupid crush is starting to get out of hand.

I can't seem to stop thinking about him... wondering what he's doing... wondering where he is.

_He's engaged, _I remind myself fiercely. _And he's your tutor. He's not available. You will never be together. No matter how intelligent, sweet, cute and witty he is._

I seem to have convinced my brain that I should not have feelings for Will Darcy. Now if only I could convince my heart...

**XX**

_She smiles flirtatiously at him. "Call me Ellie."_

_His heart starts to pound as she approaches him, tilts her head upward and takes his hand in hers. For such a delicate-looking girl, her grip is surprisingly strong. He puts his hand on her soft cheek and leans in..._

"Will!"

Darcy recoils and raises his head at the sound of his younger sister's voice.

Georgie is standing in the doorway, an amused smile teasing up the corners of her mouth.

"Alright, who is she?"

He raises his eyebrows. Surely his sister's not telepathic! He winces at the thought of her being able to read his mind and see what – or whom – he had been thinking about.

"What are you talking about?" he asks innocently, deciding to play the ignorance card, and giving her his best impression of a confused look.

Georgie smirks. "Will, I'm your _sister. _You don't have to hide anything from me."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not hiding anything from you," he says stiffly, as he opens his small suitcase and begins to throw shirts into it haphazardly.

"Really?" Georgie sounds disbelieving. "So you weren't daydreaming about a girl when I came in and found you staring aimlessly into space?"

"Hey, I just drifted off. I've been marking essays all morning. Give me a break," Will says defensively.

"And what about the fact that you're throwing your shirts in higgledy-piggledy, when we both know you're an insane neat freak? Aren't you the one who's always telling me shirts will wrinkle if you don't fold them properly?"

Darcy looks at the messy contents of his suitcase and can't stop himself from grimacing. Georgie's right – he would normally never pack a suitcase in this haphazard manner. Ellie Bennett really is messing with his mind.

"Just got distracted by you and your funny allegations," he quips, taking his shirts out of his suitcase and re-folding them neatly.

Georgie plays her trump card. "And I suppose you're going to blame me for this too?"

Darcy looks puzzled at first and then he gets indignant when he recognises the piece of paper his younger sister is waving.

"Georgie!"

He attempts to snatch it from her hands, but she puts it behind her back and grins.

"Seriously, Will, there's no need to be embarrassed. It's a really lovely poem."

She raises her eyebrows coyly. "Who is this mysterious E you refer to, anyway? Anne and Caroline will surely be disappointed!"

Enough is enough. Darcy tackles his younger sister and manages to wrestle his precious poem from her hands. For a moment, he feels as though they're children again, tussling in the playroom.

She sticks out her tongue at him. She knows when she's been beaten.

"Have fun this weekend," she says in a sing-song voice. "Where is it you're going again?"

He rolls his eyes as he closes his suitcase. "To meet Charlie's future in-laws, apparently."

"I still can't believe Charlie's getting _married," _Georgie says dreamily. "It's so romantic. I never thought he'd get engaged so quickly!"

Darcy casts a suspicious glance at his younger sister. Although she's dated several guys on and off throughout the years, he knows she's always had a soft spot in her heart for Charlie Bingley. Unfortunately Charlie has never thought of Georgie in that way – she's always been his best friend's kid sister.

"Are you alright?" he asks gently, wanting her to talk about it if she's not.

She sighs. "Yeah, I think I am. I don't think I was ever _in love _with Charlie or anything. It's just knowing that he was a guy that I could trust – someone dependable and loyal, someone who wasn't just after me for my connections and my money..."

She didn't say "Not like Johnny," but she didn't have to. Her emotions of wistfulness and guilt were written all over her face.

Darcy impulsively reached out and put his arms around Georgie. "Hey, it wasn't your fault," he reminded her softly. "You were just young and innocent and he totally took advantage of that."

"But how could I have been such an idiot?" Georgie asked bitterly.

"You weren't an idiot," Darcy soothed, kissing his sister softly on top of her head. He clenched his fist slightly. "He was a childhood friend. You trusted him. We all did. But that Wickham is an idiot if he _ever _comes anywhere near you again. Because I'll kill him if he does."

**XX**

"It's dinnertime, everyone!" Mum announces gaily. "Come on!"

I cringe as I see Peter looking around for me, and breathe a silent sigh of relief when Charlotte makes a point of going to him and taking his arm.

_I really owe her one, _I think ruefully.

"Sit here, Charlie! You're the guest of honour," Mum says eagerly, as she directs Charlie to the head of the table.

Dad doesn't say anything, but he looks slightly affronted at being demoted from his usual seat.

"I can't sit there," Charlie protests, looking uncomfortable. "Mr Bennett should be sitting there."

"Oh, pish-posh! He doesn't mind," Mum encourages. "Go on, sit down, and Jenna, you sit next to Charlie."

She beams enthusiastically at the two of them. "Oh, you really do make such a lovely couple!"

"Could this get any more humiliating?" Lisa hisses to me out of the corner of her mouth.

I grimace. "Just wait until Will Darcy shows up."

"Where are your friend Will and your lovely sisters, anyway?" Mum asks, right on cue.

"Oh, Will sent me a text – they'll come down tomorrow morning. He had to mark essays today," Charlie explains.

I breathe a silent sigh of relief and manage to enjoy the rest of dinner without thinking about Darcy. Too much.

After a truly delicious meal, Mum suggests we all go and sit in the living room for coffee and dessert.

But I can't stay inside any longer. I'm in desperate need of some fresh air and some alone time.

I excuse myself as gracefully as I can and pretend to ignore Mum's obvious disapproval. Peter looks like he's being well taken care of, anyway – Charlotte is at his side and nodding eagerly as he talks about Rousseau or some other equally exciting philosopher.

After a short walk around the neighbourhood, I start to feel a lot better. So much so that I'm in a pretty good mood when my phone rings.

"Hello, Ellie."

I smile, even though he can't see me over the phone. "Hello, Johnny."

"So, I was thinking about you today and realised that I really want to see you again," he says smoothly. "Want to have dinner with me tomorrow?"

"That sounds really nice, but unfortunately I'm stuck at home for the weekend," I say reluctantly. "We're having a big party tomorrow night."

"I see," he says slowly, sounding a little disappointed. "Where was my invitation? I love big parties."

I chuckle. "You wouldn't want to come to a Bennett family party. Trust me. You haven't met my family."

"I think I could put up with your family, if it meant spending some time with you," he says flirtatiously.

"Then why don't you come along?" I suggest impulsively.

As soon as the invitation rolls out of my mouth, I immediately want to withdraw it.

_What am I, crazy? He's never going to want to see me again after this!_

But to my surprise, Johnny accepts the invitation enthusiastically and even asks for my address.

"Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, Ellie."

"Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow too," I say automatically.

As we hang up, it suddenly hits me.

_I have a date. I have a date that's coming to the party tomorrow night. Take that, Peter! _

Maybe now, Peter would finally see that I actually had a life without him. Maybe then he'd finally realise I _had _moved on.

I was on cloud nine as I walked back to the house. Little did I realise that a storm was starting to brew and that I was the one who had set it in motion.

_**Author's Note: Many thanks to CourtneyCS, JupiterAnne, tcdavis, beatrixbelden, suki261, Sissinghurst, head_in_the_clouds14, IcingTheCake, toffeema, keal, TheImaginationAddict and 19AddictedtoBooks95 for reviewing the previous chapter.**_

_**To everyone else who has got this on story alert and are still reading, I hope you're enjoying this story too! It would be great to hear from you!**_


	12. The Plan

"Thanks _so _much for picking me up, Will," Caroline Bingley purred, batting her long lashes at her brother's best friend. "It was really thoughtful of you."

She placed a delicate hand on his arm and smiled winningly at the man whom she hoped to marry some day. Although she had been trying to catch his interest for a few years now, her charms hadn't won him over yet.

She was silently grateful that her sister Louisa had decided to opt out of the trip and spend the weekend with her husband instead. No doubt Charlie would insist on spending the weekend with his fiancée and focus his attention on ingratiating himself with her family, which would leave Will to be her companion.

"Don't mention it," Darcy answered curtly as he firmly moved his arm away. "It was your brother's idea, after all. I had nothing to do with the travelling arrangements."

"Well, it looks like fate wanted to give us a helping hand, then!" Caroline tittered.

Darcy remained stone-faced and kept on driving. Defeated, she turned away and pretended to feign sudden interest in the villages they were passing by.

This set the tone for the rest of their journey. Darcy continued to focus on the road while Caroline made several unsuccessful attempts to engage his attention. She was at her wit's end by the time they reached the Bennett home. Why was Will Darcy so difficult to charm?

Caroline had no lack of self-esteem about her looks, and her family connections only served to heighten her attractiveness to potential suitors. She had no difficulty in obtaining dates and escorts when she wanted them, but being the daughter of Everett Bingley meant that she couldn't just settle for _anyone. _The family did have a reputation to uphold, after all.

She had been only sixteen when she had decided that out of all the young men she was acquainted with, Will Darcy would be the most suitable choice for a husband. Oh, yes, he was supposedly 'promised' to his godmother's daughter, but it was the 21st century after all. He could change his mind.

Besides Anne de Bourgh was disabled – she had cerebral palsy – and although she received the best therapy treatments that money could buy, she would always be frail and weak. _She _was no match for the strong and virile Will, who needed a real woman like herself to be happy.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she barely noticed that they had arrived, until she felt the car ease over a low kerb and enter the driveway.

"Good Lord!" she exclaimed, looking at the large but very simple house with distaste. "_This _is where Charlie's fiancée lives?"

Darcy turned to look at her. "She does not reside here, I believe – she has her own flat. But this is where her parents and sisters live, yes."

"A far cry from Netherfield," Caroline remarked, thinking of the stately ancestral home in the Hunter Valley that her brother had recently inherited. She flashed a smile at Darcy. "And certainly an even further cry from Pemberley."

"I suppose," he murmured disinterestedly as he opened the car boot and lifted out their luggage. Her four Louis Vuitton suitcases looked rather incongruous next to his one weekend bag.

He smirked as he looked at her luggage. "Did you forget anything, Caroline? Perhaps the kitchen sink?"

"Well, I didn't know what they'd _have," _Caroline said defensively. "I was simply being prepared."

Darcy shook his head in amazement as he lifted the first suitcase with a grunt.

_Prepared for what, exactly? _he wondered. _The end of the world?_

**...**

"Elizabeth! Where are you? I told you to put fresh towels in the guest bathroom!"

I groan as I reluctantly put down my novel, more because of the name Elizabeth than because of the interruption.

Jenna shrugs at me apologetically. The two of us are sharing her room during the weekend stay while Charlie and Darcy share _my _room.

_I can't believe Will Darcy is going to be sleeping in my room. Oh, please, God, I hope I haven't left anything embarrassing in there..._

"Sorry," Jenna whispers softly. "Do you want me to get the towels?"

"No, I can get them," I say as I head for the door. "But when _I _get engaged to a hot millionaire, _you _can get the towels then."

"It's a deal," she says with a wink and settles back contentedly against her pillows.

Hunting down fresh towels takes a lot longer than I thought. We usually keep the spare towels in the linen cupboards, but we seem to be all out. I check Mum and Dad's room and surprisingly they don't seem to have any spare towels, either. I don't even bother checking with my younger sisters. They never know where their phones are, let alone bathroom linens.

_When was the last time anyone did the laundry around here? _I wonder irritably. _I guess that'll be one of my chores this weekend._

Finally I decide to just go get them from my room. I'm the most organised one in the family and I know very well that there should be a stack of clean towels in my dresser. Provided that they haven't gone walkabout like the rest of the household linens, that is.

The door is closed but I can hear classical music playing and I assume Mum's doing some last-minute cleaning. She likes listening to music while she does housework. So I don't bother knocking – I just open the door and barge in.

Which, as you've probably guessed, turns out to be a mistake.

"What the _hell _do you think you're doing?" Will Darcy explodes as he turns away and yanks a T-shirt over his head. But not before I've caught sight of his bare chest. He looks just like he did in the photo that accompanied the 'Sydney's 50 Most Eligible Bachelors' article.

_I always thought those guys got airbrushed..._

"I'm – I'm looking for some towels," I stammer. Instantly I wish I could take the words back, especially since one of the clean towels I was after is wrapped snugly around Will Darcy's waist.

He eyes me sceptically. "The door was closed. You could have knocked."

"Well, it's _my _room, damn it, and I thought you were my mother!" I retort, suddenly annoyed with the whole situation.

Let's face it; Will Darcy should just not be here in the first place. He should have stayed in the UK, or at the very least, at uni, so that he wouldn't be in front of me and telling me off right now.

_And wearing a towel. No, don't think about the towel, Ellie. Eyes up. Up, up, up!_

I stare defiantly into Darcy's green eyes until he sighs and runs a hand through his thick dark hair. He obviously isn't in the mood to argue with a stroppy uni student.

_Especially while he's wearing a towel._

"Over there," he instructs finally, pointing to my dresser.

I rifle through the drawer and pull out a small stack of clean, folded towels. Right where I knew I'd left them.

"Thank you _so _much for telling me. I never would have found them without your help," I say, my voice dripping sarcasm as I stalk out of the room.

I hastily put the towels in the guest bathroom (which is really just our second bathroom and all of us girls will find it really difficult to share one bathroom this weekend).

I head back to Jenna's room as quickly as I can, but not before I'm intercepted by Mum.

"Did you find the towels?" she asks abruptly.

_No "How are you, Ellie?" "I've missed you, Ellie." "I'm so sorry for inviting your prat of an ex-boyfriend to our house for the weekend, Ellie."_

"Yes, I found the towels."

"William Darcy has arrived, you know," she informs me. "He's a very _nice _man."

'_Nice' in the Mum dictionary translates to 'rich'. Just so you know._

"Uh-huh."

Mum looks at me speculatively. "You know, you'd be so much prettier if you took a bit more care with your appearance..." she mutters. She looks at my worn T-shirt and comfy jeans with disapproval. "Why don't you change for dinner? Wear one of the pretty dresses I bought you during the Boxing Day sales."

I like dresses as much as the next girl, but it's such a drag to have to get dressed up in my own _home. _Obviously I don't voice this opinion to Mum, though. She wouldn't understand.

"You really should try to talk to William Darcy tonight too," she prattles.

_What if I told Mum that I've not only talked to Will Darcy, but that he's my tutor, we met when I had one of the worst hangovers of my life, we've had shouting matches, he thinks I'm a disreputable drunk, we've shared breakfast, I've got a major crush on him, and just a few moments ago, I saw him almost naked?_

It would almost be worth telling her all this, just to see her reaction. _Almost._

I wonder what time Johnny's planning on coming over. Surely he can make today a little bit more interesting.

**...**

"I'm so glad you're here, Charlie," Jenna whispered softly, snuggling up to her fiancé.

They'd snuck out of the house when Ellie and Will were otherwise occupied and walked to a small park a few blocks away. Amidst all the excitement, they just needed a little quiet time together.

"Hey, I'm glad to be here," Charlie assured her amiably, putting his arm around her shoulders. "It's great getting to stay in your childhood home and meeting your family..."

A small smile played on her lips. "You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do," he insisted. He turned to her and touched her cheek gently with his free hand.

"Jen, you might think your family is a bit dysfunctional. I think they're amazing. You guys _talk _and _listen _to each other. You spend time with each other. You know how to act around one another."

He shook his head in slow amazement. "This is _not _what the Bingley family is like, that's for sure."

"What is the Bingley family like, then?" Jenna asked. She had briefly been introduced to Caroline back at the house, but was curious about the rest of her future in-laws.

Charlie sighed. "Well, Dad's never home. He's always in London or Spain or Japan, running another business deal. Mum is your typical socialite wife. She drinks like a fish and organises charity events. Sometimes she organises charity events _where _she can drink like a fish."

"Okaaay," Jenna said apprehensively, not liking the sound of the family so far.

"My sister Louisa's not too bad. A bit vapid, admittedly, but she's got a good heart. Married a real jerk of a guy, though – a gambler who would've gone through her inheritance a long time ago if we hadn't taken a few precautions."

"And Caroline?"

Charlie groaned this time. "OK, she _is _my sister and I shouldn't really be speaking ill of her. Blood is thicker than water and all that..."

"But?" Jenna prompted.

"But she's evil and selfish and overly materialistic," Charlie said finally.

Jenna laughed and tweaked his ear playfully. "Why, Charlie, is that the worst you can say about her? She just sounds _human."_

Charlie grimaced. "Well, she's also totally determined to get her claws into Will, but thank God, he pays no attention to her."

"And I heard he was already engaged... or something like that," Jenna commented casually.

Charlie looked blank and then his face suddenly cleared. "Oh, you mean Anne – his godmother's daughter. I'm not sure how serious that is – he's only met the girl a few times in his life and she doesn't seem to have made a great impression on him."

"Does he have a good impression of _anybody?"_

Jenna was only half-teasing. She didn't know Will Darcy all that well, but from what she'd seen, he seemed to have abnormally high standards.

"You know, now that you mention it..." Charlie said cautiously, "..he does seem to talk about Ellie a lot."

Jenna gaped in disbelief. "Ellie? My _sister _Ellie?"

Charlie grinned. "There's something going on there, I think – every time I try to ask Will about her, he practically bites my head off."

"Come to think of it, Ellie does the same with him," Jenna replied thoughtfully. She grinned. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, B1?"

Charlie grinned, recognising the classic catchphrase from the kids' show _Bananas in Pyjamas. _

"I think I am, B2," he said teasingly.

The couple turned to one another and exclaimed in unison, "_It's time to get Will and Ellie together!"_

Although it had started off as a joke, they began to seriously discuss how they might go about achieving this goal and after an hour of brainstorming, they had a plan in mind.

And poor little me had absolutely _no _idea.

_**Author's Note: Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter! I'm sorry that I wasn't able to reply personally to all of the signed reviews, but the reply URLs weren't working for some reason. As always, I do appreciate that you've taken the time to leave comments and of course I love the positive feedback!**_

_**Hope you're all having wonderful holidays. Happy New Year!**_


	13. The Move

"You know, I have been in Sydney for four months now and I have to say, I am _very _disappointed," Caroline announces that afternoon. "I was led to believe that kangaroos roamed the streets freely here but I am yet to see one for myself."

My sister Lisa stares at her incredulously.

"Please don't tell me you're one of those people who think Sydney is a real-life Crocodile Dundee movie!" she exclaims, rolling her eyes. "I thought they would have taught you better than that in England."

"_Lisa," _I say reprovingly but I have to choke back a laugh. After all, she's voicing precisely what I would have said if courtesy didn't restrain me.

My younger sister looks unrepentant. "What? I am _so sick _of people thinking that Sydney is full of kangaroos and koalas roaming the streets, that we all wear stupid bush hats and that our everyday vocabulary consists of words like 'Cooee' and 'sheila'!"

"Well, you don't have to be so _snippy _about it," Caroline huffs, looking extremely offended. "I was merely repeating what I'd been told, that's all."

Lisa puts her hands on her hips. "Oh, yeah? Well, should I just assume that since you're from England, you must eat fish and chips every day and be allergic to the sun?"

She eyes Caroline's milky complexion with distaste. "Although, you sure could use a tan..."

"Lisa, that's enough!" Jenna jumps in quickly. "I think you'd better go to the kitchen and help Mum out."

"Oh, but..."

"No buts," Jenna says firmly. "Go."

Lisa leaves obediently, but not before shooting a malevolent glare at Caroline.

I can't help stifling another chuckle. Maybe it wasn't the most socially appropriate thing to do, but Caroline sure needed taking down a peg or two.

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Charlie speaks up suddenly, obviously trying to diffuse the awkwardness.

I smile fondly at him. He really is a treasure, a peacemaker just like Jenna. They're so suited to one another.

"I think everything's under control, Charlie. Feel free to go explore or something. Just make sure that you're back in time for the party."

"Explore, indeed! Like we haven't already seen everything there is to see here," Caroline mutters under her breath.

I pretend not to hear her.

Everyone slowly drifts away, except Darcy, who's standing around like he doesn't know what to do.

"Can I help you?" I ask finally, wondering why he's still hanging around. I would have thought he'd have seized the opportunity to take a breather from me and my family.

He looks suddenly nervous but I must be imagining it. Will Darcy and 'nervous' just don't seem to go together.

Besides, if anyone should be nervous, it should be me. I'm the one who has a crush on him and walked in on him wrapped in a towel, after all.

"Uh, I was just wondering what _your _plans were for the afternoon," he says quietly.

I look at him suspiciously. "Well, I have _not _started the essay you assigned us yet. I promised myself I wouldn't do any studying this weekend."

He chuckles softly and holds up his hands. "Not a double-barrelled question, I assure you. I'm simply inquiring out of interest."

_Will Darcy is interested in what I'll be doing this afternoon? _

_No, don't get excited, Ellie. He's just bored and needs something to do. He's not actually interested in what you're going to be doing..._

I shrug. "Well, we've got a few hours to kill, so I thought I might go ice-skating."

He raises an eyebrow. "Ice-skating?"

"Yes, you know, when you put on skates and you do laps around the ice?" I say flippantly as I start walking towards the front door.

He gets to the door before I do. "Would you mind if I came along?"

_Will Darcy wants to go ice-skating? With me? Alone?_

Trying to keep it casual, I nod. "Sure, if you want to."

**...**

The ice-skating rink is teeming with young children shrieking noisily and I look expectantly at Darcy, waiting for him to decide this isn't really what he wants to do, after all.

But I'm surprised to see that his eyes are glowing with excitement and that he looks... happy.

I lace my skates up pretty quickly and head towards the rink, not waiting for Darcy. I figure he can take care of himself.

Once on the ice, I take a deep breath and smile happily. I've been coming to this rink since I was a child, and ice-skating has always been a favourite recreational pastime of mine. I even took lessons for a few years as a teenager.

"Wow, would you look at that guy go?" a kid whispers in awe. I turn around to see what he's looking at and it takes _major effort _to not let my jaw drop.

It's Darcy. Well, of course it would be Darcy – who else?

I've always thought of myself as a pretty decent skater, but he puts me to shame.

He glides along effortlessly around the centre of the rink, with a grace that I've only ever seen in professional skaters. As I watch, he spins and does a couple of pirouettes that wouldn't look out of place in a ballet.

He is _good._

I inch closer to get a better view.

Darcy's not paying any attention to the horde of children and their parents who have gathered around him and are staring at him in wonder. He seems completely lost in his own world, as though he's forgotten that anything or anyone else exists.

He does a few jumps and then another dazzling pirouette.

His audience bursts into a round of hearty applause and cheers. They break the spell.

He immediately stiffens when he realises that everyone's been watching him and stops his tricks immediately.

"Do it again, sir!" cries a little girl and he smiles fondly at her but shakes his head.

"You were wonderful!" her mother enthuses and several other onlookers agree eagerly.

Darcy looks embarrassed and mutters something indistinct in response.

Looking up and seeing me, he skates on over, ignoring the crowd behind him. They eventually disperse when they realise he's finished performing.

"You were amazing," I say quietly. Because he was, and there's no point in trying to act like he wasn't.

He shrugs carelessly. "Oh, it was nothing."

"Hey, that was _not _nothing," I admonish him. "I've been skating since I was six and I can't do stuff like that!"

Darcy looks slightly embarrassed by my praise... but just a little bit pleased too.

"We had a pond near my childhood home," he explains. "My sister and I started skating as soon as we learned how to walk."

"It shows," I say simply. "If you ever get tired of academics, you could have a great career as a professional skater."

His green eyes sparkle with amusement. "As cute as some of those glittery costumes are, I think I'll stick to academics, thank you."

He offers me his hand. "Would you skate with me?"

_He's engaged, he's your tutor, you're only setting yourself up to get hurt, _observes a little voice in my head.

_It's just skating together, it doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to, _another little voice argues.

I like the second voice's opinion better. I smile at Darcy and accept his hand, not allowing myself to think about how warm and tingly his touch makes me feel.

_Warm and tingly? I sound like a teenager!_

But we do a few laps around the rink and I gradually start to feel more comfortable.

_We skate well together, _I realise.

We really do. Our every step is perfectly in sync. We move like we've skated together for years.

I practised pair skating when I was taking lessons. It's not an easy thing to do.

The pair skating that you see professional ice-skaters do on TV? That can takes years to perfect, yet here are Darcy and I, twirling around the rink like we've known each other all our lives.

_But I refuse to think about that as a potential metaphor..._

We skate together happily, taking the occasional break every now and again but always returning to the ice.

After a couple of hours, we finally decide to call it quits and leave. But not without stopping for ice-cream first. Because when you've just spent the past 120 minutes in a freezing cold environment, you naturally want ice-cream of course.

"I'll take a double scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough and vanilla, please," I say to the girl behind the counter, after carefully surveying all the flavours.

"And I'll have the lemon sorbet and the passionfruit, please," Darcy decides.

I laugh. "Are you watching your weight, then?"

"Well, it's not easy to keep this figure, you know," he says seriously, but the glint in his green eyes gives him away.

He insists on paying for the ice-cream and after a few minutes of arguing, I decide to let him. He goes to save a table while I wait for the desserts.

"Your boyfriend seems like a nice guy," the girl comments as she hands me the ice-creams. "You two make a cute couple."

_How many times do I have to go through this?_

"He's not my boyfriend. He's my..."

_Tutor? Ice skating partner? My sister's fiance's best friend?_

"We're just friends," I say finally, deciding that that's the safest route.

The girl looks at me curiously. Yeah, I guess it did take a while for me to get there.

"Have a nice day," she says blandly as I pick up two plastic spoons and walk away.

**...**

"Well, this has been a most interesting day," Darcy says to me as we turn into my street. "Thank you for your company."

"No, thank _you," _I say quickly. "For the ice-skating and the ice-cream..."

He raises an eyebrow. "Not the company?"

I'm about to apologise, but he grins. "Kidding."

I slap him playfully. I really should stop taking this guy so seriously.

An unexpected wind blows as we walk towards my house and I wince suddenly.

Observant as always, Darcy glances at me. "Are you alright?"

"I think something's gone into my eye," I mutter, wincing again as I blink. Yep, there's definitely something in there.

"Let me take a look," he advises.

And before I can protest, he's cupping my chin with his left hand and gently tilting my head back.

"Open your eyes for me," he instructs, and although something definitely feels strange, I force myself to open them.

He peers into my eyes. "Looks like some dust went in," he says quietly. "Where's the nearest faucet?"

"There's a garden tap around the side," I say, pointing blindly towards the left of our house. I've already closed my eyes again – it just hurts too much to keep them open.

"Follow me, then," he says authoritatively and then as though he's realised I can't follow him with my eyes closed, he reaches out and takes my hand.

And again, just as I had while we were ice-skating, I can't deny the uncontrollable tingles that are racing up and down my nerves. Even with the distraction of dust in my eye.

I hear the tap running and Darcy gently begins to bathe my eye, using water to flush out the dust.

Finally it's gone.

"Thank you," I tell him gratefully as I tentatively open my eyes again. "Isn't it annoying when..."

I trail off awkwardly when I notice the way Darcy's looking at me, with an expression of tenderness I've never seen before. On anyone's face.

"You have such beautiful eyes," he says quietly.

_Me? Beautiful eyes? _

__"They're just ordinary," I say dismissively, not understanding what the fuss is about.

Darcy shakes his head firmly. "Your eyes are certainly not ordinary. The colours are always changing – I never know what colour they're going to be. They're you, they're unique... they're _bewitching."_

He leans in closer as if to get a better look. And while I'm still processing the fact that Will Darcy has just told me I have bewitching eyes, he gives me something else to think about.

He kisses me.

_**Author's Note: So Darcy and Ellie have FINALLY kissed. But don't think this means everything's going to be hunky-dory now... we still have Wickham's arrival to look forward to. ;)**_

_**Thanks to all those who reviewed the last chapter and also PM'd me. Really love hearing your thoughts, guys – and your encouragement does motivate me to write that much faster. =)**_


	14. The Visitor

"Cornelius! No!"

Jenna's frantic voice penetrates my consciousness and I open my eyes in time to see a streak of orange and white dart by.

"Oh, no!" I groan as I abruptly pull away from Darcy.

Cornelius is Jenna's tabby cat as well as an escape artist who could rival Houdini. Jenna keeps him indoors in her apartment but she decided to bring him home for the weekend. He must have escaped somehow...

"Ellie, I think that..." Darcy starts to say slowly. I don't give him time to finish his sentence.

"I need to go after Cornelius!"

"_Who?" _he asks in confusion and I sigh in frustration. How could he have not noticed the bundle of fur which zipped past us only a minute ago?

I don't have time to explain things. I just take off running.

Yeah, I know what you're thinking. You reckon that I'm only chasing Cornelius to get out of talking to Darcy. That's not true. I'm not the one who let the cat escape, am I?

"Ellie!" Darcy calls impatiently but I ignore him and keep running. Damn, that cat is fast. Where on earth can he be?

"Cornelius! Here, Cornelius!"

Yeah, you might think it sounds weird to be calling Cornelius as though he's a dog. Well, he's ten times smarter than your average dog. He knows his name... he just doesn't come unless he wants to.

As I round the corner of a house, I nearly run into Charlie, who looks panicked.

"Ellie, have you seen Cornelius?" he asks anxiously, his eyes wide in alarm.

"Only briefly," I say, and explain how I saw the cat run past me. I neglect to mention that I was kissing his best friend at the time, of course. That has no relevance and Charlie doesn't need to know that.

"It's all my fault," Charlie mutters, looking miserable. "Cornelius was sitting by the back door and miaowing and I thought he was allowed outdoors."

"Well, it's not that he's not allowed outdoors," I explain. "It's just that when he does, he goes off for days at a time and starts stealing dog food and gets stuck up trees and has no respect for cars..."

Poor Charlie goes chalky white at my latest revelation.

"If anything happens to Cornelius, it'll be because of me," he says sadly. "I know how much Jenna loves that cat."

"Hey, he's a cat. He's got nine lives, right? He's around here somewhere," I say with more confidence than I feel. "We've just got to keep looking."

**...**

But when Mum calls us all in for dinner, we still haven't found Cornelius.

"I'm not hungry," Jenna says woodenly when Mum passes her the plate of roast potatoes.

"Baby, you've got to eat something," Charlie pleads, offering her a bite of his steak.

Jenna shakes her head stubbornly. "I can't eat until I know he's OK," she argues.

Normally I'd be joining Charlie in pushing Jenna to eat something, but I'm having trouble getting my food down too.

Darcy is watching me intently and keeps trying to catch my gaze. I can't lift my head without catching a glimpse of his green eyes.

Caroline, who is sitting next to him and trying to get _his _attention, is visibly annoyed. She keeps looking at him and then looking at me and I can almost hear a little voice in her head saying, "What has she got? Why does he keep watching _her?"_

It would be comical if it weren't happening to me.

And I can't help but wonder why Johnny hasn't shown up. He seemed so excited about coming to my place.

It's not like I was chasing him and he'd gotten cold feet. I mean, he was the one who invited himself over! He actually asked for my address and everything.

So what happened? Where is he?

At least there's one thing I _don't _have to worry about. Charlotte really deserves a medal. She's sticking to Peter's side like a champion and is successfully distracting him from talking to or looking at me.

_I should buy her a thank-you present, _I think. _Maybe some perfume – I know she's been wanting a bottle of Marc Jacobs Daisy..._

"William, you haven't touched your lobster!" Mum exclaims. "I went especially to Sydney Fish Markets to get that. I'm sure I read somewhere that lobster is one of your favourite foods."

I cringe as I look up and see Mum beaming eagerly at Darcy. She's so desperate to impress him.

Darcy's eyes narrow slightly and he looks displeased by Mum's fawning.

"I'm not in the mood for lobster tonight," he says coolly.

It's my turn to frown. OK, so I know Mum can be a tad overbearing at times, but does he have to be so rude? A simple 'No, thank you' would have sufficed.

And for once, I'm on Mum's side, as she actually looks quite crestfallen by Darcy's icy demeanour.

I find it hard to believe that this is the same guy I was ice-skating with only a few hours earlier. The same guy that I _kissed._

_How can someone be so warm and funny one moment and so cold the next?_

"Well, I love lobster. But I guess if I was as rich as Mr Darcy, I wouldn't find it that exciting either," Lisa says thoughtlessly.

Just then, the doorbell rings. My mum exchanges puzzled glances with my dad but she bustles off to answer it.

I try to take another bite of my mushroom risotto, which I know should be delicious, but tastes like sawdust in my mouth.

Across the table, Jenna is still determinedly refusing to eat, Charlie has given up and is digging into his steak and lobster with gusto, Lisa is pouting because nobody is paying attention to her, Mary is silently staring into space, Caroline is still trying to make Darcy talk, and Darcy is still staring across the table at me.

"Ellie, you have a guest," Mum says, as she returns to the dining room.

I blink in surprise when I see Johnny following Mum, holding a bunch of yellow roses, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Sorry, I'm late," he says apologetically. "My GPS stopped working and I had to ask about a million people before I got the right directions to your place."

"Oh, it's OK! At least you're here now," I reply, feeling my mood lift instantly.

"Let me introduce you to everyone. This is my father, my sisters Lisa, Mary and Jenna, Charlie, Caroline and..."

Nothing prepares me for the mutual reaction when Johnny's blue eyes meet Will Darcy's stormy gaze.

Johnny looks white while Darcy's complexion turns an angry, mottled red.

And then Darcy unexpectedly pushes his chair back and stalks out of the room. A couple of minutes later, the front door closes with a loud _bang!_

We all glance nervously at one another, not sure how we should react.

And as annoying as Lisa can be sometimes, I have to give her credit for being the one to break the ice.

"What's for dessert?"

_**Author's Note: I can't believe that people are still reading, favouriting and putting this story on their alerts lists! Although real life has been and still is truly hectic, I know I have to keep writing this story for you all. Thank you for being so patient.**_

_**I am so touched that you are enjoying this story and appreciate each and every one of your lovely reviews! It's great to hear from you.**_


	15. The Background

It's almost midnight and I'm exhausted. But Johnny and I are finally alone and there's no way that I'm going to bed now. I've got some questions to ask.

"Want to take a walk?" he suggests. I nod and I follow him outside, careful not to let the screen door bang.

It's unexpectedly chilly and I stuff my hands in my pockets, thankful that I'd had the foresight to wear my old black parka. It's a far cry from being fashionable but at least it's comfortable and warm.

We stroll along the sidewalk wordlessly until I decide one of us has to break the silence and address the elephant in the room.

"So you and Darcy know each other, huh?"

Johnny looks momentarily startled. "Uh, yes..." he manages to stutter. "How do _you _know him?"

"He's my history tutor," I explain. "Plus his best friend is dating my sister and somehow Darcy ended up tagging along for the weekend."

"So it's not like you're friends or anything," Johnny says quickly, looking relieved.

I hesitate, biting my lip as I remember our afternoon together. Then I shrug. One afternoon of ice-skating and ice-cream doesn't exactly mean we're friends. And I _won't _let myself dwell on that kiss.

_I bet Darcy hasn't given it a second thought either. Not that I care._

"No, we're not," I say slowly. "How about you? How do you know Darcy?"

Johnny chuckles. "Believe it or not, the two of us grew up together. We were practically brothers."

I gape at him. "Seriously?"

I can't help sounding slightly sceptical. I saw the way those two looked each at other. They didn't exactly give off brotherly vibes.

Johnny seems amused by my scepticism. "Seriously," he affirms, nodding his head. "My father was the chief gardener at Pemberley – the Darcy family estate."

"Estate, huh? Sounds very posh," I comment.

"Oh, it is," Johnny agrees. "It was a beautiful place to grow up. I still have a lot of good memories of it. But it's a shame that I had to leave on such bad terms."

He's aroused my curiosity. "What do you mean?"

Johnny sighs. "This might take a while. Do you have time?"

_Is he kidding? I might be tired but nothing is going to stop me from hearing this story!_

"Absolutely," I say firmly, ignoring the niggling feeling that tells me I might regret my decision.

**...**

"Well, that was interesting," Jenna remarked once she and Charlie were alone. "Do you know what that was all about?"

Charlie shook his head. "I'm not sure," he confessed. "I recognised Johnny, of course. He and Will grew up together. His father was the gardener at Pemberley – the Darcy family estate. But a couple of years ago, they had some sort of quarrel and Johnny ended up leaving the estate. Will never did tell me what it was about, though."

"Perhaps he decided he was too cool to hang out with the gardener's son anymore?" Jenna suggested, unable to hide the disapproval in her tone.

Will Darcy was her fiance's best friend and she wanted to like him. But considering the way he had treated Ellie originally, not to mention the way he stormed out of the house just now... well, trust and respect had to be _earned._

"No, Will's not like that," Charlie insisted. "I know the tabloids paint him as some sort of rich playboy, but he's really down-to-earth, Jenna."

"I'm having second thoughts about letting you match him up with my sister," Jenna teased. "You do realise that your sister's got the hots for him, don't you?"

"Caroline? Oh, she's not Will's type at all," Charlie chuckled. "It's kind of funny to watch her try to win his attention, though."

"I don't think she likes _me _very much," Jenna confided, absentmindedly toying with a strand of her honey-blonde hair.

"How could she _not _like you?" Charlie said with a grin. "You're smart and funny and gorgeous..."

Jenna managed a smile. "And you get major brownie points for putting 'smart' and 'funny' before 'gorgeous'."

Charlie was just about to kiss his fiancée when a pointed cough interrupted them.

"Lisa! What are you doing here?" Jenna exclaimed in annoyance, as the youngest Bennett sashayed into the room and plopped onto the couch beside them.

"I just wanted to get to know Charlie better," Lisa said sweetly, batting her eyelashes. "So, Charlie, do you happen to have any single younger brothers?"

Jenna buried her face in her hands while Charlie smothered a grin. "Sorry, Lisa – I've only got sisters, I'm afraid."

"Oh," Lisa said disappointedly, but she didn't stay silent for long.

"You know, I hear that your family estate Netherfield is totally awesome," she chirped. "You should have a party there. I could help you organise it!"

"Lisa, that's enough!" Jenna snapped, blushing at her sister's boldness. "I'm sorry, Charlie. She tends to speak before she thinks..."

"It's not a bad idea," Charlie said thoughtfully. "Lisa's right – it _is _a great party venue and... well, we might want to have a party sometime soon."

He looked meaningfully at her ring finger (still sans ring) and Jenna realised that he was thinking of an _engagement party. _But now she really had to nip this conversation in the bud. She didn't want Lisa finding out they were engaged and spilling the beans before she'd had a chance to talk to their mother first.

"Do you? I can't think why," she said casually, affecting ignorance. "Besides, this weekend is wearing me out. I think I'll need to clear my social calendar for a while, in order to recover from it!"

She stood up. "I'm going to make some tea. Anyone want some?"

"No, thanks," Charlie said dully, wondering why Jenna suddenly seemed so unenthusiastic. Was she having second thoughts about an engagement party? Was she having second thoughts about being engaged?

"I'll have some chamomile with honey," Lisa ordered.

Jenna headed out of the room, completely oblivious to the wound she had just inflicted.

_**Author's Note: If you're still reading this story – thank you! Sometimes I feel like just giving up on it but your wonderful reviews encourage me to keep pushing on.**_


	16. The Drama

Darcy angrily kicked at a stray pebble.

It had been bad enough knowing that Johnny Wickham was on the same planet as him, let alone being under the same _roof!_

Darcy balled his fists and shoved them in his pockets, grateful for the unexpected and inexplicable restraint that had prevented him from punching out Wickham at the dinner table just now. Although his reaction to seeing the younger man was sure to have raised a few eyebrows already. What must Ellie think of him?

Suddenly he frowned. _Ellie _had been the one to introduce Wickham to everyone. And now that he thought back to that moment, he remembered that Wickham had been carrying a bunch of roses.

_He had been there to visit Ellie. Why was Wickham visiting Ellie?_

Darcy gritted his teeth as he thought of the pain that man had brought to him and his family. Even his best friend Charlie didn't know about the gruesome details. He thought of the cruel manner in which his younger sister had been manipulated and found himself seething again.

He couldn't let the same thing happen to Ellie and her family. No matter what her personal feelings were towards him right now... he needed to warn her.

Darcy turned to go back to the house and then grimaced. He simply couldn't face going back into the Bennett's house now, not when he knew Wickham was under its roof.

He reached for his phone and dialled a familiar number.

**...**

"Looks like Will's not coming back tonight," Charlie told his sister. "He wanted to apologise but he's got something unexpected to deal with and he's driving back to the city tonight."

"What about his _luggage? _And what about _me?" _Caroline asked immediately. "If only he'd told me that he wanted to go back earlier, I could have gone with him!"

"Don't worry, sis, I'll take care of making sure that you and Will's luggage get back home safely," Charlie replied playfully.

His forehead crinkled in concern. "I hope he's alright, though – it's not like him to take off impulsively like this. Although I guess he _did _say that something unexpected had come up..."

"Please," Caroline scoffed. "Will's a sensible man. He obviously couldn't put up with spending another night in this house. And I understand _exactly _how he feels."

Seeing the frown on her brother's face, she quickly backpedalled. "Oh, Jenna is a lovely girl, of course," she said hastily. "Beautiful and quite charming in her own provincial way. But that family of hers! Absolutely impossible."

"They've all been very kind to us," Charlie defended stoutly, not wanting his sister to say anything nasty about his future in-laws.

"Kind? Since when did you become so naive, Charles?" his sister snorted inelegantly.

"You know as well as I do that they're only fawning over you because you're such a catch! Did you see the way the mother's eyes lit up as she was asking you about Father's overseas assets? What a gold-digger!"

Charlie felt sick to his stomach. He didn't want to listen to his sister's poisonous words, but in a way, they were ringing true. He wasn't blind – he'd also noticed the predatory gleam in Mrs Bennett's eyes as she'd quizzed him about his father. Try as he might, he couldn't honestly defend the integrity of his future mother-in-law.

"Well, it doesn't really matter what her family is like," he protested. "Jenna's the one I'm dating – not her mother or anyone else. And she's amazing – you think so, don't you?"

Caroline hid a smirk. Her brother sounded so desperate to have her approval. She just couldn't give it to him, though.

No matter what Charlie thought, family _did _matter. And the Bennett family was just not up to the Bingley family's standards.

Yes, Jenna was beautiful, but there were a lot of beautiful girls in the world... girls who would be eminently more suitable for her dear brother.

"I shouldn't say, Charlie," she demurred. "I wouldn't want to hurt your feelings."

She rose and acted as though she was about to leave the room.

"Wait! Caroline!" Charlie exclaimed.

Caroline grinned smugly to herself before she turned back to her brother. She knew him so well.

"What do you mean?" he asked anxiously. "Don't you like Jenna?"

"Of course I do, Charles," she replied. "I told you, she is a beautiful girl. But if you want my honest opinion, she's not nearly as interested in you as you are in her."

"That's preposterous," Charlie said angrily. "And who are you to judge, Caroline? It's not as you've been able to observe our relationship!"

"Over this weekend, I have," Caroline said, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "Trust me, Charlie, she's not the one for you."

She sashayed out of the room. Her brother didn't call after her this time, but she knew that she'd gotten him thinking.

**...**

"No way!" I gasped. "You mean Darcy actually cheated you out of your rightful inheritance?"

Johnny nodded. "I don't know how, but he must have gotten rid of his father's first will," he explained. "The will that left fifteen thousand dollars to me. It's a paltry sum compared to the millions that William Darcy inherited when his father passed away, but it would have made a huge difference to my life."

"What do you mean?" I asked curiously. "How would it have made your life different?"

"I wouldn't be doing Commerce for one thing," he said frankly. "I told you I'd always wanted to do an Arts degree, but now I'm stuck doing a 'practical' course so that I can get a job which will earn money."

"I feel your pain on that," I admitted. "Perhaps it's for the best, though. If you had done an Arts degree, you might actually have had Darcy for a tutor too!"

"And I was doing a training course at Sandhurst, hoping to eventually become an officer, when Darcy pulled some strings and got me expelled from the academy," Johnny continued.

"When you hadn't done anything wrong? How could he do that?" I exclaimed in horror.

Johnny laughed bitterly. "Oh, money can do anything, Ellie. Darcy always resented the great relationship that I had with his father, who treated me as though I was his second son. So now that his father is dead, Darcy is getting his revenge."

"Unbelievable," I declared angrily, crossing my arms. It was hard to believe that the same guy who'd kissed me so tenderly could have such an evil heart.

_Ellie Bennett, you sure know how to pick them._

"But perhaps the worst thing about it," Johnny said sadly, "is that Darcy even turned his younger sister against me. I used to take her to the park and play with her when she was little and she adored me and thought of me as another older brother. But Darcy obviously poisoned those good memories of me somehow. I tried to catch up with her when I was in London last summer and she wouldn't even answer my calls. It's just sad how far this guy will go to destroy my reputation, you know?"

**...**

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Georgie chirped in delight as she opened the door and found her older brother standing there with an overnight bag.

"Just thought I'd come crash with my little sis for one night," Darcy said with a smile. "Do you have room for me?"

"Always," his sister said, grinning in return. "What are you doing here, though? Aren't you supposed to be with Charlie and his future in-laws?"

Darcy sighed. For Georgie's own good, he had already decided not to tell her that he had seen Johnny Wickham. She was doing well these days and he didn't want to say anything that would bring down her currently cheerful disposition.

"Charlie's doing fine on his own," he improvised. "Was starting to feel a bit like an extra wheel, so I thought I'd take off early."

"Couldn't handle Charlie and his girlfriend being all lovey-dovey, huh?" Georgie teased. "We _really _need to get you a girlfriend of your own."

Her eyes lit up suddenly. "Hey, I know this really awesome girl who'd be great for you, Will. She's my mentor and..."

"_No, _Georgie," Darcy said a little more forcefully than intended.

Georgie pouted. "But you didn't even give me a chance to..."

"No," Darcy repeated emphatically.

He knew his sister meant well, but there was no point in her trying to fix him up with her mentor.

Because he can only think about one girl at a time and the girl with the hazel eyes is monopolising his thoughts.

And it will take more than Georgie's matchmaking attempts to get Ellie Bennett out of his mind.

**...**

_**Author's Note: If only Darcy had known who Georgie's mentor was! But it's never that easy, is it? Thank you all again for your reviews. You rock my world, you really do. **_


End file.
